


There's No Easy Way Out

by Dildo_Swaggins_T_Baggins



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: BDSM, Breeding, Closet Sex, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Femmes with Spikes (Transformers), Gags, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Orgy, Porn With Plot, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Slut Shaming, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Trapped In A Closet, Valve Fingering (Transformers), Wet Dream, pillow humping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22984852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dildo_Swaggins_T_Baggins/pseuds/Dildo_Swaggins_T_Baggins
Summary: Sometimes your captain finds you bent over his desk, tied down like a greased up hog, open and ready.
Relationships: Rodimus/Thunderclash
Comments: 90
Kudos: 153





	1. Almost a Perfectly Healthy Mech

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who wanted smut? It's me, I want the smut, you get the smut, EVERYONE GET'S SMUT!  
> There'll be more chapters but it's smut first, then plot here.  
> Also if you want to see any kinks or anything special, please do comment! <3 All I ask is Thunder's is not dishing it out in this.

He has no idea how he got here, none. No idea. All he knew was that he was face to face with a desk that had circles carved into it. Now normally he wouldn’t mind staring down well carved circles in a desk, but having his servos tied up behind him wasn’t beinifical to the studying the circles. The rest of his frame was even worse, his legs were pulled tight to his torso, bound by the same strong fabric that held his servos. 

What a strange predicament.

A shiver ran up his back struts as a door slid open and close behind him, a mech whistled, stopped and rested his frame against his raised aft. “Thunderclash.”

Thunderclash’s engine stalled, a horrid ‘gasp’ escaped his intake, why the frag was he in captain Rodimus’ office, bound like some wild animal an-

Rodimus vented, the hot air collided with his frame, ghosting over his exposed valve and fully operational spike. 

Thunderclash mentally screamed, he has no idea how he got here, what was going on and now his panels had been pried off! He gathered what little control he had as Rodimus lazily vented against his exposed port. “E-excuse me c-captain?”

“Hm? I’m trying to catch up on my work, Thunderclash, so would you mind explaining to me why you’re prepared like an earth hog roast?”

He groaned resting his forehead against the desk. “I have no ideas, captain, I’m as lost as you are.”

Rodimus slapped the datapad down, finally standing on his own, humming. “I must admit, whoever tied you up like this knew what they were doing.” he paced around to the front of the desk, his small digits slipping under Thunderclash’s chin. Thunderclash glanced away from Rodimus’ unreadable expression, his frame shaking and his spark burning. “Any clue on who I should thank?”

His intake turned dry. “What?”

Rodimus leaned down. “Well Thunderclash it’s not every cycle that I get something like this in my office.” Their facial plates inches apart. “There’s even a bow and a card saying ‘breed me’,” Rodimus closed the gap, his lip plates lightly brushing over Thunderclash’s. “Any ideas?”

“N-none, c-captain.” Thunderclash finally spoke up, his spark in his throat, he felt Rodimus’ vents against his helm. They were hot, seering even, slipping between his wires, his plates, and down his to protoform. Thunderclash grit his denta, fighting a low moan, trying to make the situation not any worse then what it was.

“Huh, well I have a few theories.” Rodimus licked his lip plates before backing away and slumping in his chair. “Someone drugged you, gave you something extra strong. And I do mean strong.” He got to his peds, mosey back to Thunderclash’s aft. “You can see it, and it’s surprising that you can’t feel it, but your spike,” Rodimus ran a digit alongside it.

Thunderclash’s systems screamed to life, he felt it, his whole array was burning, it was stuffy and wet. His spike ached to be touched, shoved into some mech’s valve or intake, it hopelessly twitched against the desk begging to get some form of attention.

“Then there’s your valve,” Rodimus’ digit trailed up from his spike tip, scraping up a long line of lubricant, he wrapped it around his digit while still trailing up and up. 

Thunderclash whimpered as Rodimus pressed again this exposed node.

“Your valve, it’s so...hungry, needy, it want’s a spike buried deep into it, even your node, it’s swollen and so sensitive.” His digit circled around the node like a predator stalking prey. “So, maybe a mech did drug you, gave some something that can make your frame beg for a good frag?”

“Yeah that’s what happe-” he screamed as Rodimus pressed against his node, his vision started to swirl and his engine roared.

“No that’s not it.” His digit was replaced by his thumb, rubbing the node in slow circles, Rodimus leaned against Thunderclash’s aft propping his helm up in thought. “That can’t be it, there’s only a few mech’s strong enough to carry you into my office. And a whole group would be noticed.” 

Thunderclash wiggled his hips, his spike scraping against the desk, pre fluid leaking out of it. He whined. “I have no idea c-captain.”

“Oh, now that’s a lie, and isn’t it treason to lie to your captain?” He pressed down again.

Thunderclash’s vision started to fill with static. “Yes captain!”

“This is what happened,” Rodimus’s thumb ran up his valve lips, glossing over the lubricant, then he paced to the front of Thunderclash. Once again forcing the blue mech to look up. “I think you broke into my office, make yourself the horniest mech functioning, and tied yourself up.”

Thunderclash shook his helm.

Rodimus rolled his optics, leaning over Thunderclash and pulling something from the fabric. He held a sign up, right in front of Thunderclash’s optics.

**BREED ME!**

“Isn’t this your handwriting?”

“Well yes bu-”

“Shhh, I’m not done yet. So, you break into my office,” he counted with his digits, “Then either stretched yourself for me, or stole something from the medbay, tied yourself up, and left this pretty little card with a bow.”

“Captain I’m-” He stopped watching Rodimus suck his valve lubricants off of his thumb.

“Well then, case close.” Rodimus once again circled behind Thunderclash, his digits lazily traced Thunder’s lower back, his thighs, pulling wires and prying under sensitive panels. 

Thunderclash wiggled under the bindings, spark racing as warmth bloomed where Rodimus touched. His frame bend wherever Rodimus’s digits played, lighting his wiring on fire. His vening hitched and he shut his optics when his captain’s touch graced his spike. “Captain?” He pried his optics open and craned his neck to see Rodimus.

The captain’s optics were half closed, a smirk pulled his lips tight, his fangs flashed in the light. There was a slight blush under his optics, the same blush that Thunderclash caught his captain staring at him. Then those hot digits wrapped around his spike, Thunderclash held his venting. Leisurely the captain stroked his spike once, pausing to press his thumb to Thunderclash’s tip. “You know, it’s bad to stifle your venting and fans when interfacing.”

He swallowed, meeting his captain’s optics. “I know.”

Rodimus cocked an optic ridge. “Maybe you’re into that,” He pulled back one of the binds and let it snap against Thunderclash’s snestive plates.

He whined, feeling the pain spread over the area and his spike twitch with need. “C-captain.”

His captain stroked his spike, it was slow almost painfully slow, his fans clicked on trying to cool his burning frame. Rodimus chuckled as Thunderclash’s hips jerked, his spike pleading to be buried deep into a valve. Something told him that wasn’t going to happen. He felt his valve cycle down, new strings of fluid leaked out, making a slick oil sound. 

“I wish I had a camera,” Rodimus laughed, it was deep and rich. “Sadly this’ll be another fond memory where Thunderclash, the greatest Autobot of all time had his processor fragged out over my desk.” 

Thunderclash gave in, moaning as jerking his spike into his captain’s servo, his vents resumed, sucking in as much cool air as his systems could handle. “Captain,” He whined.

Suddenly Rodimus slammed his servo down on his aft panel, his digits curling up and stretching off Thunderclash’s paint. “I’ve always liked it when you called me captain,”

Now his engine rumbled.

Rodimus licked his lip plates, his servo abandoned Thunderclash’s needy spike, he whimpered at the lack of attention. “Shush,” Rodimus said, he wiggled on the desk, searching for some form of relief, only to still as the quiet click.

Once again Thunderclash glanced back, straining his neck wires, he couldn’t see anything. “Are you?”

“Going to spike you?” Rodimus didn’t take his optics off Thunderclash’s aft, his digit parted Thunderclash’s needy valve. “My, my, your valve is so...small.” His engine purred, his digit pressing against the inflated node. Thunderclash quivered, only letting Rodimus press down even harder.

“Captain!” He jerked up, his frame fighting the bindings. 

Rodimus retracted his digit from Thunderclash, who fell onto the desk, weakly venting. “Sensitive too. I’m guessing your cute little valve doesn’t get a lot of attention, does it?”

He shook his helm, parting his intake to suck in more cool air.

“Well, sadly I’m not going to just shove my spike into you,” He pressed his index digit deep into Thunderclash, scraping over nodes that hadn’t been touched in decades. “Look at you, you’re cycling down on my digit. I must admit, I thought the greatest Autobot of all time would at least get some action down here.”

“N-no, mechs like to think I dominate in the berth,” He gasped out, pressing his aft towards Rodimus.

“Huh, that’s good news for me,” Another digit slid into him, spreading him setting nodes on fire, under his tanks tickled. Rodimus twisted his digits inside, gracing his valve with a sweet touch. Another digits was added and more fluid dribbled out, now the captain started to pump his digits in and out. “So tight,”

Thunderclash moaned, biting the desk under him, his fans roaring.

“So, Thunderclash, do you want to be bred?” Rodimus grabbed the knot on his lower back, pulling him back. Thunderclash gasped feeling that hot spike press against his waiting valve.

He nodded, clearing his intake. “Y-yes captain.” 

Rodimus grinned his engine rumbled, his spike pressed between the wet lips, Thunderclash’s vents hitched as Rodimus parted him. His digits clawed at Thunderclash’s backside. Finally the captain thrusted into him, his valve started to sob with lubricant. Thunderclash moaned, his vision growing fuzzy as his processor was brought back to the primal need of fragging. Rodimus pulled out and slammed back in, hissing. “So fragging tight,” His digits ran over Thunderclash’s plates, the binds that kept him in place. 

Thunderclash cried out as Rodimus pushed deeper into him, long forgotten nodes burned with new life. That tickle under his tanks became stronger, his thighs pressed against the captain’s with hot need.

Rodimus hooked his digits under the bindings and pulled his frame up, finding a better angle. His engine was roaring now, his spike thrusted deep into Thunderclash, pressing against his ceiling node. 

Thunderclash whined, his intake falling open as Rodimus’ thrusts grew stronger. 

“You’re still so tight.” Rodimus mumbled between hot vents. “So fragging tight,” his peds landed on the desk, utterly stretching his valve.

He cycled down on that spike, unable to think of a single word to say, only gasps and moans fell from his intake. Limply he gave in, letting the captain frag him like a wild cyber beast. He felt the tip of Rodimus’ glours spike slam into his his ceiling node and press against his gel wall. 

Rodimus gave up talking, simply moving his hips and letting Thunderclash’s valve drool between them. He groaned and hissed with each thrust, striking his deepest nodes. Finally with a jerk of his hips his spike slammed into Thunderclash’s node and into his gel wall. Then tickle spread through his frame and Thunderclash fell limp, his valve sucked every drop of transfluid Rodimus had to offer.

Thunderclash regained himself, he knew he overloaded, he felt it, his whole frame felt it, but he wasn’t satisfied. He frowned, sitting up and turning to Rodimus, his binds turned to static. “Cap-”

His optics shot open, he stared up at the hab’s ceiling, resetting his systems a few times. “I can’t believe it,” He puffed out between a clearly unhappy intake. “A wet dream?” He sat up, a shiver ran up his frame. He tugged the fluffy heating tarp off, Thunderclash poked his thigh feeling nothing but static. “What the?” His frame ached, everything ached, and there was that stupid tickle under his tanks. He felt hot and stuffy, the need to move was urgent. 

He pulled his legs off the berth and once again froze, there was a small pool of his lubricant. Gently his digits slipped down, and he jumped feeling his weeping valve, practically drooling for a certain captain’s spike. Now only that but he slid back his first panel and found a full erect spike. “Oh,” He stood up, gasping, he couldn’t feel his bottom half. 

His whole frame burned, and ached, that tickle became more and more demanding.

**_Hey Velocity? Could I come in for a check up?_ **

  
  



	2. Wash Rack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cold shower or masturbate in the shower? What's better?  
> We all know what's better, I'm sorry mr.ducky, you're eyes have seen some things and there's no going back.
> 
> AND HE'S STILL HORNY!  
> Gotta feed your fuckers!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the name, it's still the Thunder's is horny fic.  
> Any ideas or suggestions please comment, no judgement, just TC isn't a top! ;)

**_:Check up? Do you need me there now?:_ **

**** **_No, it’s not urgent. I’ll be on the medbay soon._ **

**** Hot solvent rolled down his plates, easing the tension in his cables and rising off the now thick and sticky residue. He rested his helm against the wall, forcing his frame to cool, sucking in cool air before the hot fog would fill his wash rack. This wasn’t this first fluctuation, certainly not the first concerning his co-captain. Thunderclash bit his bottom lip, recalling some bits of the dream. It certainly was the first time he was dominated, not in the sense of using his valve but being bound was a first. 

It wasn’t much of a secret that Thunderclash did have a crush on Rodimus, half of the crew knew it. Somehow the captain didn’t, or he simply ignored it, Thunderclash was willing to bet Rodimus had no idea. And to Thunderclash that was okay, he was fine with admiring the other prime from a far and let his stupid spark dream all it wanted. Then again it seemed like Rodimus did start to warm up to him, maybe the whole punching Getaway in the helm, or that one time Rodimus scared Thunderclash by mistake and had to call Velocity. Either way Rodimus did have a few drinks with him at Swerve’s. 

However finding the natural progression of just enjoying a few drinks and telling embarrassing stories to wanting to be bound and fragged by his captain was a bit challenging.

He shivered as he tried to scrub off his own fluids, finding his whole array extremely sensitive. “Velocity please tell me there’s an explanation for this.” Thunderclash’s best guess was some sort of heat, but last time he went into a heat his valve was dry and unresponsive. Not only that but due to his spark those subsystems were taken offline ages ago, his frame was more concerned with trying to live then frag. Gasping as his valve was swollen and still dripping, every bit of his exposed protoform attuned to his touch. A small gasp escaped his intake, charge ran down his struts and his valve cycled down. “You’re kidding me, again?” Almost as a response his spike started to harden. “Fine, hopefully we can make this quick.”

_Okay, quick, just a quick hard frag. Don’t think about Rodimus, Rodimus is off the table you horny bastard!_

_He found himself on the bridge, overlooking the open terminals, empty chairs and still cubes of energon laid about. Stars and purple nebula twinkled in the windows, an unknown landscape stretched on and on outside._

_His vents hitched, he’s only seen this view a few times, he was above the other stations, he was in the captain’s area. The air was still and he shivered, leaning forward over the railing, hearing the faint whine of wire. His wrists were bound against the railing, not tight but tight enough that he couldn’t move too much. His valve cycled down and he felt a cool breeze, his panels were left open._

_He was tied down, on an empty bridge, array open to whoever walked in._

_A single dribble of lubricating rolled down between his lips, over his node and down between his peds._

_The bridge doors slid open, then close, slow steady ped steps crept up behind him. He held his venting, spark racing and array twitching. There was a faint rumble, their engine purred behind him. “Nice to see you again Thunderclash.”_

Thunderclash groaned slamming his helm into the wall. “Rodimus, again?” He grit his denta, feeling the slick fluid between his swollen lips, his spike ache, and that stubborn tickle under his tanks. “Frag me.”

_The captain smirked, Thunderclash was able to see him now, sitting smugly in the oversized chair. “Been awhile.”_

_He craned his neck watching his captain’s amused optics trail over his needy frame. Rodimus licked his lips, his engine still purring. “Captain?”_

_The orange mech grinned flashing sharp denta. “You like calling me that don’t you?”_

_He nodded, wiggling his aft, spike twitching as more lines of lubricant dripped from his deprived valve. Rodimus jumped off his chair, leaning against the railing alongside Thunderclash. “You planned this one out, waited till the whole crew was on leave, knew it was my turn to stay and,” He tugged on the wires, pleased he cupped Thunderclash’s chin. “Well now we have the bridge to ourselves.”_

_His engine rumbled feeling the pressure of his captain’s digits against his face plates, it was tender, something that lacked from their last session. Rodimus watched him with half closed optics, his digits stroking Thunderclash’s sensitive wires, tickling and teasing him. Then his servo makes it back up Thunderclash’s neck and cups his chin once more, his thumb presses against Thunderclash’s lips._

_“Open,” It’s an order, when did Rodimus give him an order (well besides every single cycle of his current life). He did, his captain’s thumb pressed into his intake, pressing down on Thunderclash’s tongue. “I want to test something, suck.” He froze for a moment, staring up at his captain, then he moved his tongue, lapping under the thumb before sucking. Rodimus smirked, thumb tracing around his intake, and then finally stopping and pulling out with a faint pop. “I got something for you, it’s been sitting in my subspace for awhile now, but I knew we’d need it.” His captain pulls out a gag._

_His engine’s stall, intake wide open, already his charge was building. Rodimus leaned down, pressing the ball between his denta, then wrapping the straps around and connecting them. Thunderclash bit down on it, testing it out, finding it oddly comfortable._

_“You like?” Rodimus was optic level with him now._

_He nodded._

_The captain smiled. “Good, and I’m sure if anything gets out of control you can buck me off.” He winked. Thunderclash’s engine’s stalled as his captain circled back, his soft digits trailing over Thunderclash’s plates, his frame burning in the wake of the captain’s touch. Rodimus stopped, his servos pressed against either side of Thunderclash’s aft. “Already dripping? You’ve been waiting a bit too long haven’t you?”_

_He whimpered, or tried to, a pleading response._

_Rodimus grinned, pulling his aft back. “A quickie?”_

_He nodded, valve clenching down and more lines of lube dripped out as if silently pleading for the captain’s spike. His spike ached for touch but his valve craved it, it needed to be stuffed. He bit down on the gag, drool spilling out of his intake._

_The captain’s digits trailed to his front, grasping his spike, giving the base a tight squeeze before stroking it. Thunderclash vented, screwing his optics shut and feeling Rodimus’ soft digits on his hard spike. His hips jerked and followed his captain’s servo. “That’s it.” The captain purred, rubbing his thumb over his tip, Thunderclash moaned it was muffled. “Good,” He sped up his servo. He was close, very close, his spike twitched and ached, that tickle under his stomach grew, his tanks tightened and he desperately seeked overload. “Welp I’m not here to jerk you off.” And in one fell swoop that sweet touch was gone. Instead Rodimus grabbed his open panel, neatly pushed his spike back in, and manually shut it. “Keep it closed.” He ordered._

_Thunderclash cried out, his helm falling to the railing and his fans roaring, trying to vent. He wanted to beg, plead to the captain to let him overload, let his transfluid spill out and scream into the gag. He whined glancing around to see Rodimus grinning down at him._

_“What?” His fangs flashed again._

_Then it slammed into him, his valve, he forgot about his valve, his hips shook, his valve was flooding. He almost demanded for a spike, that his frame found it a necessity to be filled. He whined and whimpered._

_Rodimus snickered. “You think I wouldn’t notice this?” He pressed his closed panel against Thunderclash’s weeping valve. “I know you’re hungry, that you’re waiting for this, huh? Greatest Autobot Of All Time?”_

_He pressed against Rodimus’ panel, his valve clenching down, turning back with pleading optics._

_“Fine, fine, dam puppy eyes.”_

_Thunderclash almost screamed when the captain pressed his digit against his exposed swollen node. He quivered, his engine roaring, his digits tightened on the railing. Rodimus circled around his valve, the faint click of his panel was Thunderclash’s only warning as his spike pressed against his lips._

_“Look at this, all exposed on the bridge?” Rodimus smirked, running two digits lazily between his lips. “Imagine what would happen if this bridge was packed?” he pressed his spike between Thunderclash’s folds. He wanted to pin Rodimus down, ride that sweet spike till the charge knocked him into the medbay. He couldn’t, here Rodimus could toy with him, and he would gladly crumble for the orange mech. It was simple, Rodimus said jump, Thunderclash would hit his helm on the ceiling. He shook when Rodimus finally slipped into him. “I think I’d make a game out of it, see how quiet we can be, maybe no one would look over, maybe they’re watching you take my spike?”_

_All those optics would stare, some gasping, some angry, a few whistling, and he would take it. Anything for the captain._

_He started to cycle down, loving every bit of Rodimus’ spike, how it would burn through his nodes and his charge would crackle and pop over their frames. “I think you’d like that, trying to hold back every sweet noise?” The captain chuckled. “Would you even be ashamed?”_

_Yes, Primus he would be. He nodded,the railing bending under his strength._

_“Would you care?”_

_No, he wouldn’t, all he cared about was overloading on the captain’s spike._

_“Hm, funny you’ve been doing all the work here.” Rodimus pressed down on his aft, slowing his pace. “Let me.” He growled. Thunderclash shivered under him, those digits found tiny cervices and dug into them. “Besides I think you’ve earned this.”_

_He bit down on the gag when Rodimus slammed into him, striking nodes as his tanks twisted. Listening to the wet slaps of their arrays, how his valve merciless accepted Rodimus’ spike, how their combined fluids spilled out onto the floor._

_“Always welcoming, always needy. Think everyone knows how much of a slut you are?”_

_He whined when Rodimus picked up the pace, slamming into his ceiling node. The tickle under his tanks turned into a burn and he swore another gush of lube slid out of him._

_“Good, good-boy, heh, one hell of a spike sleeve.” Rodimus struck his ceiling node, and Thunderclash crumbled, his frame jerking in a wild overload. He howled into the gag, falling against the railing. Rodimus snarled, his digits pulling Thunderclash back. “No you don’t.” He knew Rodimus was strong, but he didn’t think Rodimus could literally slam his whole frame down on his spike. Thunderclash whimpered as another charge ran through his palates, he shook under his captain, his spike twitching and begging for touch, but now it was locked up. Rodimus was getting faster now, the rhythm was falling apart. “No you don’t spike sleeve!” He barked at Thunderclash, his valve cycled down trying to milk what it could from the captain._

_Then with a shout and a chunk of railing, Thunderclash was lifted up, Rodimus sat in the captain’s chair, and shoved Thunderclash down. Transfuild pumped into him, another overload rocked his frame and he fell limp. Half of his frame on Rodimus the other slumped to the floor. His valve still trying to cycle down on Rodimus._

_Rodimus vented, rubbing his lower struts. “Well then, that was unexpected.” he purred._

_Slowly Thunderclash crawled off his spike, falling to the floor. Small puddles of their spilled fluids littered the floor, the torn railing and wire sat uselessly on the floor. “I’ll get it repaired.”_

_Thunderclash whimpered, reaching for his valve only to have Rodimus slap his servos away. He glanced up, optics wide._

_“No, that’s mine now, don’t you know?” He leaned down, cupping the sides of Thunderclash’s helm, pressing a kiss on the gag before untying it. The captain sat back, propping his arms under his helm. “Shut it.”_

_He did, his array was shut now, he leaned against the chair. He was exhausted but there was one more thing, something he needed to do. Gently he grabbed the captain’s spike, leaning forward he lapped the tip, then circled, and finally took it in._

_Rodimus grinned, resting a servo on his helm. “Good, at least I don’t need to train you in this area.” His ped snuck down between Thunderclash’s thighs and pressed against his back panel. He scraped and pushed up, teasing Thunderclash. Almost in revenge Thunderclash sucked hard, he was trying to clean his captain but now found himself in a strange competition, seeing who could overload first._

_:_ **_ARE YOU COMING DOWN OR NOT?!:_ **

**** Thunderclash jumped, stumbling back to the other side of the wash rack, pulling his digits out of his intake and removing his servo from his closed panel.

**_Sorry, sorry! I just got lost in thought, I’ll be up in a few I swear!_ **

He glanced down at his servos, shivering, he got one digit in today, a single digit. He knew he was tight but not that tight. Not to the point where he felt every bit of his digit, even in certain areas the metal was dented. “Frag.” This was a whole new struggle, a horrible struggle. Thunderclash switched the cleanser to cold and quickly rinsed off, now forcing his charge away, but knowing that there was that stubborn tickle under his tanks still. 

He only paused to give himself a quick one over in the mirror before dashing out of his hub.

Then slamming right into some poor mech. “Sorry! I’m so, so-”

“What’s gotten into you Thunders?” Rodimus grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, he was knocked on the ground.

“Frag.” He snapped.

“Huh?” Rodimus blinked, his optics softening. “You good, you don’t-”

Thunderclash picked Rodimus up, set him on his peds. He opened his intake and only made a strange squeal of some sort, then promptly shut it. He gestured with this servos, making strange shapes and pointing to about half the ship. 

“ENGLISH, SOMETHING, WORDS I NEED WORDS!” Rodimus snapped dusting himself. Drift peeking around Rodimus, grinning like some fat cat.

Thunderclash stopped, clearing his intake, quickly forming some long apology and trying to explain himself and then- _“Good, good-boy, heh, one hell of a spike sleeve.”_ Then the captain’s grin formed in his processor. So naturally Thunderclash did what every mech did when they found themselves facing the mech they just fantasized and rode their digits on. He screamed. “AHHH!” He slammed his intake shut, turning and sprinting down the hall, then skidding to a stop, pointing down another hall. “AHHHHH!”

* * *

Rodimus and Drift stared as the massive colorful mech ran off like some scared mechling. “Okay, what?” Rodimus reset his optics turning to Drift.

“Yeah, what was that? ‘Thunders’?” Drift cocked an optic ridge.

“What?” Rodimus snorted. “He’s got a long ass name.”

Now Drift’s optic ridges shot up. “Yeah but ‘Thunders’?”

Rodimus rolled his optics. “Stop, he’s good for a drink and a laugh.”

Drift whistled. “Oh no, you were worried, you get body slammed and you’re worried about your body slammer?”

“Drift, he couldn’t speak a word and simply screamed and ran off. I think I have a right to be concerned.”

Drift grinned at his best friend. “Oh I get it now, that’s how you know a mech likes you, they scream and run off.”

That earned the third in command a swift painful kick in the aft. “Shut it.” Rodimus glanced down at the end of the hallway, catching a funny smell in the air before it vanished. Maybe he should check in with the mech? He looked pretty scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first time I asked my crush out:  
> A week prior I told a teacher and 3 other students who for a whole week kept setting me up to ask him out, and then they finally told me that's what they were doing, I had no idea. So I planed to ask him out it when like this.  
> Friend 1: Well you know you're a good looking guy.  
> Friend 2: Yeah, you're a good guy.  
> Crush: Oh come on there's no girl here that likes me  
> *me as if I was summoned from the dark bowels of hell*:Boy I tell you what, I swear I'll suck your soul out of your dick like a caprisun!  
> *Teacher and 3 friends burst out in laughter while crush turned red faced, left, came back, left again, and simply said: I have no idea what to say to that!
> 
> So naturally screaming at your crush and running away is a normal response. Comedy, I think I'm good at it?
> 
> Also once again, ideas are more then welcomed, just TC isn't a top!;)


	3. Thunderclash Won’t Come Out Of The Closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus finally gives in and admits to himself something.  
> Thunderclash finds out what is going on with him and then hides in a closet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the smut in this chapter is kinda short, when I was writing this it kinda became a bit of an exposition dump. So I have to rewrite this twice! I'm in fucking pain!

The bridge hummed with the normal amount of typing, clicking, ventilations of mechs working. He could almost hear their optics blinking shut and the inner workings tightening and focusing on the screens in front of them. Another thrilling day in the life of being a co-captain. Rodimus slumped in the oversized chair, tapping his ped, his processor numbing with each passing moment. 

_ Well this is thrilling, downside is that Megatron isn’t here to mess around with. Drift is out bothering Ratchet, and Minimus is reorganizing anything he can get his servos on. And I’m here watching. _ His optics trailed down, resting on his knees, he frowned.  _ When did that blue get- oh right Thunders! What was his issue? _

__

“So I was thinking that maybe Ratchet and I could get away for a little, you know, maybe take a shuttle?”

“How long is awhile?” Rodimus cocked a ridge, in light teasing. Sure he didn’t want Drift to be gone long, and those two could use some ‘time’, just a couple of very, very long hours, alone and doing Primus knows what. 

Drift spun around. “What? Rodimus I’m not going to be welded to your hip forever.”

Rodimus rolled his optics. “No, that’s not what I’m asking, what I’m asking is ‘what happens if the Lost Light is out of your shuttles reach?’”

Drift paused, his intake screwing up. “Really?”

“Oh no you two left alone again?” He leaned back. “Out of anyone’s reach and in a small area with no distractions? What will you do.”

His best friend slowly grinned. “Alright, who is it?”

Rodimus stumbled, his finals running a little hot, his intake pulled up, pouting. “What?”

Drift spun around, grinning like the fattest fucking cat. “You like someone, so who is it?”

The captain turned the corner, searching his processor.  _ Like someone? Who? WHO CAN I POSSIBLY LIKE?  _ “Uhhh…”  _ Alright, calm down, calm down, so who? Who is new? Who can I like? Let’s see, more movie nights at Swearve’s, no one there, uh more classes with Megs, Riptide is not it. Okay think Rodimus, who is making your finals burn?  _ “Oh...oh no.”

“Ah-HA!” Drift slapped his servos together. “There is someone!”

_ Yes, someone that I didn’t think of! Someone that we meet up every week and get some drinks and talk. Sometimes we go for a walk, or some meteor surfing.  _ “Drift trust me, there’s not someone.”  _ With his stupid dopey face, grinning lips and cozy optics and- FUCK, FUCK, FUCKEDY FUCK ME! _

__ “Roddy?”

“Drift tru-” He was cut off, well more like a frame slammed by some massive blurr of blue, orange and every other color that skittles drained from the dam rainbow. Rodimus fell on his aft, resetting his optics.

“Sorry! I’m so, so-”

“What’s gotten into you Thunders?” Rodimus grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Frag.” Thunderclash hissed in.

“Huh?” Rodimus blinked, he felt his finals grow even hotter. “You’re good, you don’t-”

Thunderclash wrapped his comically massive servos around Rodimus’ shoulders, easily picking him up and setting him down. And then there was this sound that came from his intake, it was a whine, a seeker’s thrusts starting up slowly, sounds that don’t naturally escape a grown mech’s intake. Thunderclash slapped his intake shut, his cheeks bloating up with escaping air. Then his servos did this thing, like flashing gang signs.

“ENGLISH, SOMETHING, WORDS I NEED WORDS!” Rodimus snapped dusting himself.

Thunderclash stopped, clearing his intake, shutting his optics. For a moment he had a peaceful look on his faceplates, and then his face turned a bright blue, comically blue. “AHHH!” He slammed his intake shut, turning and sprinting down the hall, then skidding to a stop, pointing down another hall. “AHHHHH!”

_ Thunders, Thunders, Thunders...frag him and his stupid inviting optics, and his stupid smile and...oh his spark, his weak spark. Maybe his spark was messing up? Was that a malfunction? Is he okay? _ Rodimus jerked up, scaring a few mechs. “I have to check on something, until then, Blaster comm me if I’m needed.” He rose to his peds nodding to the bright orange mech and stepping out of the bridge. 

_ Alright dip shit, let's check on my...ugh crush. _

* * *

_ Swing ya peds, swing ya peds, yeah! I love swinging my peds! _ He grinned watching his peds fly up and down. He always loved the medbay, he had to, and Lotty knew the one thing he LOVED about the med bay (besides her and spending copious amounts of time there) was having a tall berth. So tall he could swing his peds like a bitlet, simple pleasures.

_ Speaking about simple pleasures, that stupid tickle is still there! Now I really wish that I had time to frag myself one last time, thinking about sucking the captain's cord, the sweet pressure against my closed wet valve an- _

__ “Nope, nope, nasty bastard.” Thunderclash hissed venting, forcing his attention once more on his swinging peds. 

Lotty stepped in, knocking. “Howdy, howdy, what’s going on now?”

Thunderclash shrugged, in all honesty he had an idea. “Notta.” He popped open his medical ports, laying back on the berth.

Lotty rolled her optics. “Right, let me guess a funny tickle in your ped, a slight buzzing in your helm or-” She read through his data, over and over, her face twisting. “This is interesting.”

“‘Interesting’ something is interesting?” He whined sitting up.

“Yeah, something-”

“HEY DOUBLE WIDE SURPRISE!”

“RODIMUS!” Ratchet yelled from the other side of the medbay.

“Oh fuck,”  _ There is no Primus. _ Thunderclash fell back on the berth, slamming down on it with a very loud clang. “You knocked me out, alright?”

“What?”

“Night, night.” He slowed his vents (fun to learn that when Overlord is right behind you with a mech’s helm in his intake) and shut his optics.

“Alright.”

There was a knock on the door, a cheery whistle echoed in the small room. “Mind if I?” Rodimus asked.

“Sure, sure.” Velocity welcomed him in. “I just put him under, checking a few things.”

“Ah,”

“Yeah, you know how he gets, the moment he backfires his dopey face appears here and with big old puppies eyes he says ‘pwease Ms.Lotty’, this and that.”

“Really?

“He hasn’t told you?”

Rodimus paused, his voice cracking. “What, that he’s allergic to holographic spray paint?”

Velocity snorted, snapping into her iconic cackling laughter. “He told YOU that? Rodimus you have no idea how he looks when his frame reacts.”

_ Lotty please knock me out, I will pay you. _

“His paint chips and his wires swell?”

_ Oh, no, no, not that night! _

“Wait you’ve seen it?”

Rodimus snorted. “Yeah, I freaked out and rushed him to my wash rack, that was a fun night.” He paced up Thunderclash’s side, digits trailing against the berth.

_ The stupid wash rack! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! _

Velocity laughed, she knew, she’s always known. “Oh a night in your wash rack with Thunderclash?” She purred.

_ Lotty please knock me out, PLEASE! _

__ “N-no, no, it’s not what it sounds like, it was more like I held his helm and scrubbed his frame like a mad mech.” Rodimus bashfully cleared his intake. 

“Oh, every inch of his frame?”

_ Primus, Thunderclash, vent, you need to vent! DO NOT think about the captain’s digits digging into every little bit of your plating, every tiny crevice.  _

“Velocity, are you implying something?” They stood right next to one another, Rodimus was turned away from him.

Thunderclash cracked open his optic, glancing at Velocity, the medic grinned, she knew what she was doing.  _ You bitch, I love you but you can be such a bitch. _

__ “Me, a humble medical officer? What could I imply, that the co-captain of the Lost Light was there for the great Thunderclash? Alone in a tiny wash rack, rubbing his frame with your soft digits against his hot, swelling, peeling frame?” She stared at Thunderclash, unblinking optics burned in his.

_ THAT’S NOT EVEN REMOTELY ATTRACTIVE IDEA!  _ Thunderclash wanted to scream, but he did enough of that earlier. He mouthed ‘what are you doing?’

“Velocity? I’m your captain an-”

“What? You’re going to throw me out of the airlock?” Velocity grinned.

Rodimus vented. “Alright, alright.” He slowly turned.

Thunderclash shut his optics and relaxed on the berth.

“What’s going on?” Rodimus poked his chest. 

“Worried?”

Rodimus ‘tsked. “I’m sorry if I’m worried my friend freaked out and screamed at me twice before running to ‘Ms.Lotty’.” His digit pressed a little bit more, scrapping Thunderclash’s chest decal. 

“Really? I’ll look into it.” Velocity slapped his servo away.

_ No! Bring it back! _

__ “I’ll let him know you stopped by, alright?”

Rodimus vented. “Fine, I’m just worried.”

Velocity laughed. “I’ll tell him a special someone sprang in.” She shoved Rodimus out of the room, and shut the door after the captain. Leaving them alone. “Alright, he’s gone.”

Thunderclash vented, his frame was burning and that stubborn tickle itched under his tanks.  _ Primus, what is going on? Rodimus just touches me for a few moments and my engines are howling. _ “Well, doctor, doctor give me the news?” He quoted the cheesy song.

“You’re in heat.”

His engine stalled. “What?” his voice grew tight and his frame itched.

“Congrats, you are the horniest boy.” She patted his helm.

“But-”

“You’ve recovered, it’s taken over half of the war and then some, but you’re almost at 100%. So, you’re in heat.”

“This isn’t a normal heat.” Thunderclash gestured to himself.

“Correct, it’s not, far from it. In your records your last heat was spike related, and for most frames they do get valve heats, the normal week. But the issue here is that you haven’t had heat for well half the war, so it’s built up.”

“So, what you’re saying is…”

“You’re the horniest mech that ever lived.”

“Oh, well I’m sure some suppressors or dampeners will take care of it?”

Velocity laughed, shaking her helm. “Thunders, honey, I can’t do that. It’ll weaken your spark and that’s something I can’t in good conscience do.”

Now he vented, all the hot air left his systems. “Frag.”

Velocity’s engine stalled, she ran over to the wall flicking on the fans. “Don’t do that!” She hissed.

Thunderclash snapped all of his vents shut. “What? Why?”

“When mechs are in heat, they have a scent, it’s sweet and over powering, but this, this is bad.” She cleared her intake, licking her lips. “Thunders, that’s bad, that’s strong, like I walked into the perfume department strong.”

He whined. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine, but now we’ll have to cut this visit short, very short. Here’s my advice, I can write you a temporary leave order, you can sit in your hub and just.” She waved her servos around. “Be nasty.” 

He swallowed. “Um, I don’t want to neglect my duties...Uh, how long is this going to last?”

Velocity frowned. “Well, I’m guessing but…”

“ **A MONTH?!** ”

He stepped out of the medbay, helm down, chewing on his bottom lip.  _ A month, roughly...give or take...a month where all I want is to… _ He groaned. A month, a solid horrible month, where his frame put him through hell. Lovely. Maybe he should take Lotty’s advice and just go to his hab, lay down and well put on  _ something _ ? 

Thunderclash shook himself, ignoring the ever growing tickle and that almost sweet heat spreading through his wires. About to push out all the hot excess air in his systems only to snap his vents shut. This was going to be hard, on one servo he could give into his needs and pretty much grab any mech to share his heat with, or he could grin and bear it. 

_ Bear it Thunderclash, if you can take a shot to the spark you can take a little heat. _ He forced himself to relax and turned away from the medbay, thinking about stopping by Swerve’s and grabbing a drink. Just something small, tiny little cube to settle his nerves. It was only a heat cycle, well a month (maybe), all he had to do was ride his digits every now and then and he’ll be fine.

Just fine.

His peds froze, and there, just at the end of the hall was a tiny trip of yellow metal sticking out to the side. Thunderclash knew what was around that corner, was Rodimus. The one mech he couldn’t trust his frame around, as proof he got several warnings that he was overheating. “Frag.” He mumbled then clamped his intake shut as the yellow spoiler flicked. In a blind panic he dashed into a storage closet, thanking Drift for teaching him how to make as little as noise possible. 

It was cramped, dusty and there were shelves lined with cleaning supplies, all alphabetically organized. There he hunched down and watched as the little bit of light under the door flickers.

“Hello?” Rodimus called, making his way down the hall. “Anyone there?” He called out, then stopped, tapping his ped. “Huh, oh well. I hope everything is alright with him, he was acting kinda funny.” Rodimus turned back, humming, his digits tapping against the wall, the light under the door breaking apart. The co-captain’s frame thumped against the door.

Thunderclash wanted to scream, maybe he should ask Preceptor to make him a cone where no sound escaped, just for this sort of situation. Another warning popped up in his systems, he needed to vent. “Okay, okay.” He chewed his bottom lip once more, pressing his fist into the hall and then the top of his helm against his fist.

Finally opening his vents.

Instantly his system cooled, the whole closet filled with exhaust. That only got rid of one of his problems, the other was that stubborn itch right at the top of his ceiling node. The slickness under his panels, how calibers would clench down.  _ YOU’RE KIDDING ME, NOW?! HE’S RIGHT THERE, ALL HE HAS TO DO IS PRESS THAT BUTTON- _

__ “Get a grip Rodimus, it’s Thunderclash, he’s fine, totally fine, like 80% fine.” The captain huffed, his ped tapping a little faster. 

_ FINE YOU HORNY BASTARD! _ He mentally yelled at his frame, letting his panel fly open, leaving his spike panel closed. That left his valve exposed, dripping and already begging to be filled. Thunderclash turned away, chewing his servo plates as his digits trailed down his frame, only teasing certain areas, clusters of notes and wiring that were sensitive.

Rodimus groaned on the other side of the door, slamming his ped down. “Screw you Drift, I’m not...nope.” His engine roared.

Denta tore into the servo plates below, his valve quivered, literally quivered, he had no idea valves could do that? His frame lurched forward, his knees trembled and he felt the hot line of lubricant trail down his thigh. 

The door between Rodimus and Thunderclash rumbled and vibrated, sending miniature tremors through his frame and straight to his valve.

_ “You know I can smell you right?” A servo wrapped around his and Thunderclash was pulled into the closet. The captain’s digits already dug into his pevil plating, already teasing his sensitive seams. _

_ Thunderclash fought to keep his intake shut, pressing against those firm digits. His lower panel was already open, his valve already dripping. _

_ “My, my, look at what this heat has done to you? Your valve it’s so,” A digit circled around his equipment. For once the captain’s digits felt cold against his valve. “Inflated, so moist and needy.” _

Rodimus hissed his engine sinking into a lower gear, the vibration slowed but seemed to grow stronger, deeper. “I’m just checking up, that’s it.”

_ Finally a digit plunged into his needy valve, stroking his hyperactive nodes. “Hmmm, listen to you,” The wet slick sounds echoed up to his own sensors. “Sounds good, just like mac n cheese.”  _

Thunderclash shut his optics, his denta denting in his servo plating.  _ I don’t even know what mac n cheese is. _ His single digit pushing into him even deeper, it was tight, and every cluster of nodes was screaming. If he was lucky this would be over quickly.

_ The captain moved his digit in and out, scraping the cluster of front nodes. Thunderclash’s thighs shivered, he wanted to ride that digit until his frame curled in on itself and overload rocked his systems. “You’re pretty good at being quiet, very good, maybe you like being quiet?” _

_ Thunderclash nodded, craving that sweet pressure in his valve, aching for that tension against his ceiling node.  _

_ “I think I like you in heat, so desperate for a good frag?” The captain slipped in another digit, using the rest of his servo to rub against Thunderclash’s outer node. _

_ His back arched, his denta bit down even harder on his servo plating. A tiny whimper escaped his intake. _

_ “Shhh, shh, you don’t want him to hear do you?”  _

Rodimus once more began to tap his ped, his engine idling to even a lower gear.

_ “All it take is a single moan and that door would fly open, and he’d find you like this.” The captain growled, his digits picing up speed and ramming right into that certain cluster.  _

_ Thunderclash screwed his optics close, holding back a fierce moan, his calibers clenching down.  _

_ “Imagine him, just turning around and opening that door, finding you, riding your own digit and thinking about him.” The captain chuckled. _

_ Thunderclash followed those sweet digits, wanting them to slip in deeper, and yet they only stayed firmly at his valve opening. These sweet sensations he needed refused to venture deeper. Primus, he wanted to beg the captain, plead to have that spike impale him. A tiny moan escaped his lips. _

_ “Shhhh, you know he’ll hear you, then what? What would he think?” The captain grinned, pulling his digits away from Thunderclash’s valve and focusing on the exposed node. His digits circled the node, then flicked it, toying with it. Each movement his hips jerked and his frame shuttered. “Maybe he’ll frag you to the point where you can’t feel your peds under you?” The captain’s digits moved faster, charge crackled over Thunderclash’s frame. “Maybe he’ll make sure you can’t walk you, and breed you like some savage?” The captain’s other servo rested just under Thunderclash’s tanks. “Think about it, being pumped full of his transfluid?” _

_ Thunderclash crumbled, his denta clenching so hard that he felt energon well up at the back of his intake. Overload racing through his wires, those digits hardly slowing as another overlord rocked his frame. His knees buckled but his servo caught him, his massive frame slumped on the floor. His vents flung open and hot air escaped his frame, his fans clicked on as he tried to desperately cool his internal systems down. _

_ The captain stood over him, those wild optics burned, he grinned leaning down to level his optics with Thunderclash’s. “Imagine that, being unable to even move from the rough hard frag, and then feeling his transfluid deep inside you.” _

Thunderclash shut his optics, and willed away the lusty image of Rodimus’ digits coated with his own fluids. His helm fell back against the shelving, he still felt Rodimus’ engine purring on the outside.  _ I’m going to be here a while, he’s waiting and I don’t think me popping out of the storage closet covered in my own fluids would really help.  _ Limply he reached for a cloth and started to clean up the massive mess he made, the floor was littered with puddles.  _ I really am in the worst heat ever. _

“Rodimus here what’s the situation?”

Thunderclash stilled his movements listening into Rodimus conversation, another tiny trick he learned in the war, if you could just tweak your audio sensors when you’re close enough to a mech, you can pick up on their comm.

**_:Rodimus, it seems that the whole lower level decks of 4-7 are well…:_ **

**Come on Megs, spit it out, or have Mags say it.**

**_:That’s the issue, Mags just fainted after reviewing the footage that Blaster has recovered. Rodimus to put it simply, every mech on decks 4-7 are in an intense state of interface.:_ **

**What? You mean they’re all just...fragging their processors out?**

**_:Yes, it’s nasty.:_ **

**Have you contacted the medical crew?**

Just then Thunderclash heard the whole medbay running down the hall.

**Well I’ll take that as a yes. I’ll handle the way out of order mechs, are those decks sealed off?**

**_:They are, here’s the new codes.:_ **

Rodimus huffed, his engine roaring. “Welp, I suppose I’ll have to check on Thunders later, shame I was going to pay him back for body slamming into me and then running off.”

Thunderclash slumped in the tiny storage closet, putting his climbing need at the very back of his helm, and forcing himself on the current issue. “Why are they all fragging?” He stared up at the ceiling. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” 

The ventilation shaft for the heating and cooling system stuck out like a dent. 

“Am I really that horny?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, who do y'all want to see fragging next chapter?


	4. Imagine and Orgy but it’s also a zombie horde?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright what do we get here?  
> Horny mechs, GET YA HORNY BOYS OUT! GET EM WHILE THEY'RE STILL WET!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there's a strong lack of smut here, just small mentions, but upside is there's more mechs doing the nasties, so... We get some other ships and mech doing some fun stuff, also some angst in the ending.

Rodimus followed after the medical team, stumbling into the lift, they lowered to level 4, the lift opened and they were greeted with the ships isolation bulkhead. First Aid opened the data panel, while Velocity started to set up a mini med-bay. Ratchet stopped by Rodimus, folding his arms. “What are your orders?”

He hummed. “It depends on what First Aid discovers.”

The chief medical officer spun around. “Welp, this is very, very interesting, every mech is ‘heavily involved’, there’s no radio waves, and it couldn’t be the energon that’s gotten them so over charged.” First Aid took some more readings, snapping his digits. “There’s a thick smaug in the air, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

Rodimus joined First Aid looking at the high numbers. “But why is it affecting the mechs this way?”

“Well it’s similar to heat-exhaust.”

“Heat-what?”

“When a mech is in heat they have a strong scent to them, it’s meant to attract a partner.”

Rodimus frowned. “You learn something new everyday.” He mumbled under his breath. “So don’t inhale the frag-me fog?” 

“Pretty much, the best way is to send the fog down to our ventilation system and clean it, or expel it.” First Aid finished, linking his datapad into the cameras of each deck. “Oh...oh my.”

The screen showed a whole hall full of mechs locked in an intense interfacing session, some were pinned against the wall, others were between mechs, and there positions that shouldn’t be physically possible. 

The lift behind them chimed, Rodimus spun around as Thunderclash’s big colorful frame stepped out. He froze meeting Rodimus’ optics then quickly turning to Ratchet. “Uh, I think I got off on the wrong stop.” His digits interlocked between themselves and his plates were trying to shrink down.

“Yeah,” Velocity snapped, her voice full of venom. “Didn’t you get the warning? This whole area is locked off.”

“Oh,” He lifted his servos up, submitting to Velocity’s fury temper. “My bad, I’ll just wait to get to my hab.” He spun around stepping halfway into the lift.

“Wait,” Rodimus called, turning to First Aid. “you might be helpful, feeling up to it Thunders?”

Velocity grinned at the colorful giant. “Yeah  _ Thunders _ , feeling up for it?”

“S-sure, how can I help?”

First Aid hummed. “Well how the ship is set up, the quickest way to evacuate the air, would be through this ventilation system on the 6th deck, port side. But that means you have a lot of horny mechs to go through.”

“Keep your vents shut, that way you don’t end up like them.” Velocity jabbed a digit to First Aid’s datapad. 

“Alright,” Rodimus grinned, grabbing Thunderclash’s shoulder. “What do you say? Ready to weed through the orgy?”

Thunderclash gave a half sparked smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” Stepping behind Rodimus.

He tapped the giant white chest. “Glad to have my back covered.”  _ That’s just-wow Rodimus, you just, wow. Not even trying to hide it huh? _ He snapped his intake shut, feeling his face plates burn up. “Wish us luck.” He typed in the one time bypass code.

“Keep your comms open!” First Aid yelled as they charged into the isolated deck.

The door slid shut behind them and Rodimus turned to the hall, already feeling the heat crawl towards them, the moans and gasps echoed up to them. The hall hung with a thick heavy pinkish fog, that must be the pheromone agent. Even with his vent sealed up tight he could still ‘feel’ the effects.

“Oh…” Thunderclash mumbled cupping his face plates. 

“Yeah,” Rodimus shivered, his sensor awareness flooded his processor. “And I thought I had a high interface drive?” He elbowed Thunderclash’s mid plating.  _ REALLY?! Not even trying Rodimus, why not just open your vents up and let him frag you into a puddle. _

Thunderclash’s servo covered up even more of his face, he cleared his intake. “We should get moving.”

“Heh, alright, alright.”  _ Smooth, smooth like a torn up road. _ He stepped bravely forward, trying to keep his peds as quiet as possible. Something told him not to interrupt the occupied mechs. They passed Swerve’s, the door was wide open, Rodimus almost stumbled, having to do a double take.

There was the bar’s owner, Swerve, and well Skids and was that Naustica? Skids was on the bar, his arms wrapped around a bright red frame. Swerve was on top of Skids, thighs parted to the side, his helm rested just below Skids’, intake parted. Finally there was Naustica, who was standing over them, her back was turned to the door. 

_ Okay no that bad, just some weird cud-oh, oh, Swerve? _ Rodimus grabbed Thunderclash’s arm.

Swerve let out a broken moan, his legs quivering, his digits found Skids’ shoulder. Naustica’s hips slammed into Swerve’s she growled biting down on the back of his neck. Skids pumped his array up to Swerve’s, rubbing a servo down Swerve’s helm. The mini’s valve was stuffed with two spikes, trails of transfluid and lubricate dripped down and stained the counter.

“More.” Swerve croaked out, shaking between the two of them.

Skids smirked, kissing the tiny mech between them. “Hear that?”

Natustica’s engine roared, her pace picking up. “What a good little buy-mech.” Her digits found Swerve’s shoulders, digging in between the plates. “Taking my spike like a pro, milking me for everything.” She rumbled.

Swerve cried out as her hips picked up, while Skids’ kept a steady numbing pace. Their spikes burrowing even deeper into Swerve’s tiny wet valve.

Thunderclash pulled Rodimus away, hiding his helm, Rodimus shook himself and quickly followed after the colorful mech. Their peds glided over the floor, only making soft ‘tip-tap’ sounds as they continued forward. The halls were full of lusty moans, clanking and even words that Rodimus had never used in berth before. 

His vents were shut tight, his spoiler twitched, even with his vents sealed up, he can still feel the effects. His array was heating up, both panels started to itch.

**** **_:Should we switch to comms?:_ **

Rodimus jumped, turning to Thunderclash.  **_Comms, I don’t want to alert anyone that’s...occupied that we’re here._ **

**** **_:Very well, do you want to take point? You know where we’re going.:_ **

**** Rodimus nodded pressing past Thunderclash, feeling the heat radiate from the bigger mech.  _ Seems like I’m not the only one effected, wow he’s burning up. _ His spoiler twitched feeling another wave of heat roll off of Thunderclash. _ Maybe he should head back?  _ **_You doing alright there Thunders?_ **

**** **_:I’m fine, why?:_ **

**** He glanced back at Thunderclash, that golden face was darker than before, his digits twitched and flicked, his outer plates fluttered and stilled.  **_You don’t look fine._ **

**** **_:I assure you I’m okay. Velocity wouldn’t approve of this mission if my spark couldn’t handle it.:_ ** Thunderclash gave a reassuring smile.

They finally made it to the end of the hallway, reaching the stairwell to the next deck. Both of them paused as another set of mechs were busy on the stairs. One was standing on a single ped, the other ped was propped up against the wall, and the other mech’s helm was buried deep in the second panel.

“Ah, curse those denta of your’s.”

Rodimus caught a glance as the lubricate dripping down the second mech’s chin, the soft sucking sound filled the stairwell. He pressed past them, really not wanting to catch their names.  _ I’ve never seen that before. _ He shivered, thinking of the idea of burying his intake into someone’s valve to the point of a mini waterfall of lubricant.  **_Let’s speed this up._ ** He could feel his own resolve cracking, all it could take was opening his vents and pulling Thunderclash into a hab.  _ Not really a bad idea, well besides joining the horny horde.  _ His panels were slowly growing tighter by the moment. 

**_:Agreed. Captain why is there only one flight of stairs?:_ **

**** **_Good question, I think the Lost Light was originally a pirate vessel, or modified to be one. There’s only one continual set of stairs, that’s the set in the very middle, next to loading lifts, the other’s are randomly placed. That also explains why every deck has escape shuttles._ ** He shrugged, it drove Minimus crazy, not exactly a safety precaution, but it was a great idea if there were invaders.  **_Just to the end of this hall and to the left is the next stairway and- oh no this is where Rung’s office is._ ** Rodimus stepped forward, each step his thighs would rub against his panels, his engine started to rumble shifting into first gear. 

Thunderclash gasped behind him.  **_:Sorry.:_ **

**** **_You’re fine, but we’ve got to hurry I’m not sure if he was with a client or-_ ** They slowed to a stop, peering into the office. Rung wasn’t alone, the thin orange mech has his servos held up over his helm. His hips were spread wide, intake open while his optics were shut. His frame shuttered as his patient's hips slammed up. Whirl’s engine purred, in his claw he held Rung’s wrists, his other claw was wrapped around Rung’s waists. 

Rung weakly moaned, his movements were slow, almost too slow, then again Whirl’s were even slower. “Good, good.” Rung gasped.

Whirl’s helm leaned down and nudged against Rung’s, humming softly. “What do you want?”

“Mm,” Rung though, his valve stretching over that grethy spike. “I-I wa-”

Whirl’s optic snapped up and glared at Rodimus and Thunderclash, he growled, letting go of Rung’s wrists and grabbing the therapy’s desk.

“Oh slag.” Thunderclash grabbed Rodimus’ spoiler and yanked him back as the desk was thrown at the door, snapping in two.

Rodimus clamped his intake shut as a moan clawed its way out of him, his spoiler flicking with eagar joy at the new found contact. Not only that but his frame was pressed against the colorful giant’s, he shuttered, grinding his denta. “Thunderclash.” He gasped, realizing that his peds didn’t even touch the floor.  _ Imagine those servos around my waist an- RODIMUS! _

Thunderclash didn’t even seem to notice his rough handling of Rodimus’ spoiler, he gasped. “Oh so-”

“Thunderclash?” A helm popped out from another hab, Blaster’s optics grew and he licked his lips.

**_:Nope!:_ ** Thunderclash grabbed a leg of the ruined desk and chucked it at Blaster, knocking the mech out, Blaster collapsed with a loud clunk. Then the moans and clanking stopped all at once.

**_Uh, Thunders,_ ** helms started to pop out from habs.  **_We should run from the horny zombies._ **

**** Thunderclash tossed Rodimus over his shoulder and bolted down the hall, his peds stomping and shaking the ground, interrupting plenty of interfacing mechs. Rodimus squeaked as Thunderclash’s servo squeezed down on his aft, his processor flooded with messages to open his first panel, oddly not his second? His digits dug in between Thunderclash’s shoulder plates, the powerful engine under him roared with life.  **_:Almost there Captain.:_ **

**** Mechs were swarming them, almost pouncing on Thunderclash’s peds, some hissed, some whistled, they were even catcalling. 

“Ohh look at that aft!”

“I wonder what that valve tastes like.”

“Hey Thunder-thighs you’re going the wrong way!”

His tanks twisted, he clawed at Thunderclash’s back, without thinking he grabbed a sign and yanked it off the wall. With a well placed aim he chucked it at the biggest mech’s knee, the mech tumbled and prevented other mechs from following.  _ Rodimus, what’s gotten into you? Everyone cat calls Thunders and it’s never bothered you before, so what’s going on now? _

__ Thunderclash threw himself down the stairs.

**_Stop here, there’s a lock._ ** Rodimus wiggled out of Thunderclash’s grip, typing in a code as a red light flashed and panels flew down. The mechs slammed into the panels, Rodimus slumped against his companion.  **_Oh thank Primus._ **

**** **_:Thank you for that.:_ **

**** Rodimus spun around, Thunderclash was propped up against a wall.  **_For what?_ **

**** Thunderclash shook his helm.  **_:It really shouldn’t bother me, I should be used to it, but I’ve come to hate ‘cat calling’.:_ ** He stuck out his tongue and shivered. 

**** He placed a servo on Thundercash’s forearm, shaking his helm.  **_You shouldn’t be used to it...Come on we’ve got this level and we’ll be home free._ **

**** Thunderclash nodded, clearing his intake, they both turned to the hall, freezing, the fog was thicker here. So much that Rodimus could make out cloud shapes, he was sure he saw a fluffy cat. Not only that but their frames were starting to weaken to the lusty tease that the fog offered, he was sure his spike was denting his panel. The moans were louder here than in the other levels, the fog was so thick that Rodimus couldn’t see his own peds. With a tight tank he stepped forward. Glad that he heard Thunderclash’s peds behind him. 

* * *

He really tried to feel guilty, he really tried to, this was all his fault, he just had to ride his digits in that closet, and now all these poor mechs were fragging their processors out.  _ Maybe Lotty has a point, I should just wait this out in my hab but… _ He stumbled and caught himself, looking down to find a purple leg sticking out. 

Under him was Tailgate and Cyclonus. The jet was twisted, his aft hanging up the air, a wire between his thighs, pressing so hard on his closed panels that paint peeled off. Cyclonus’ claws dug into the floor below, his aft shifting left to right, his engine’s whining. Then there was Tailgate, who promptly sat right at Cyclonus' helm, his thin thighs parted, one servo held the wire. The other servo was on the warrior's horn pulling the purple jet closer. The tiny bot moaned. “Go on, get in there.” He encouraged, the wire pulling a little tighter. 

_ Holy slag! _ Thunderclash carefully stepped over the bonded couple and shivered, his own panels feeling painfully tight. He caught up to Rodimus, trying his hardest to not watch that tempting spoiler swish, those sleek but strong hips. 

_ “You know, those hips would dent yours?” The captain grinned walking side by side with him. _

__ _ “You’re a curse.” _

__ _ “Nope, I’m just something you’re too lazy to get rid of, oh what’s that?” _

__ Rodimus stopped waving him forward, peering into Versage’s.  **_:Ah, Thunders. I think this is an orgy.:_ **

**** Thunderclash turned into the bar, and felt another wave of lube slip out of his swelling lips. That for sure was an orgy, in the bar the tables were pushed aside, and in the middle of it there was this wiggling mass of mechs. The whole bar was there, every single one of the customers. There was a chain of mechs fragging each other, their thick spikes pressing into the other’s valves, said valves were already over flooding with transfluid. Another set of mechs were giving all their ‘attention’ to certain bar owners.  **_That is an orgy._ **

**** _ “You know, you can just join them? Picture all of them as your Captain?” The grinning double of Rodimus said sitting on one of the tables. _

**_:And you know this, how?:_ **

**** Thunderclash avoided the captain’s calculating optics.  **_Let’s just say Ratchet’s party days were-just Ratchet has changed a lot!_ ** He huffed, shaking his frame and shutting his optics, Ratchet really had changed from the wild mech to a snappy medic that was infamous in all solar systems. 

Rodimus frowned, rolling his optics.  **_:Alright, moving on from this.:_ ** He waved his servo, activating a chime that alerted the bartender when he had a customer. 

The orgy paused, helms snapping towards them, their frames tensed and ready to pounce, then like lighting they jumped.

“Not again.” Thunderclash groaned and grabbed Rodimus by his aft, the captain gasping his frame quivered.  _ I’m not the only one affected. Good to know.  _ Thunderclash ran once more down the hall, stumbling over mechs who were interfacing on the floor. 

“There!” Rodimus pointed.

“There’s that cheeky racer!”

“I can’t believe Thunderclash is here.”

“I wonder how many spikes our captain can take at once!”

Thunderclash felt their digits claw at his frame, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to outrun them this time. “Rodimus?”

That handsome face spun around to him, his optics stretched wide. “No, you’re not.” He hissed, his denta flashing. 

He offered a small sad smile, as a mech latched onto his leg, Thunderclash fell onto his other knee. Gently he set his captain down, swinging his arm around and effectively blocking the rest of the mechs. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not leaving you with the horny zombies.” 

Thunderclash snorted, giggling. “Rodimus they’re horny, I’ll be fine, just go and take care of the ventilation, okay?”

“But-”

“Rodimus, we’re not having this emotional breakdown due to horny zombies.” A servo slapped his thighs and pulled him back. 

Rodimus huffed, shutting his intake, pouting before spinning around and dashing off, his engine howling.  **_:Just to be clear, I’m pissed.:_ **

**** He laughed falling on his chassis, his engine finally roaring and his vents flicking open. The mechs crawled over him, smelling his heat.  _ They won’t chase him now. Come on, I’m a 4 course meal waiting! _ He pushed himself to the side of the hall, leaning against it, panting as their digits found his sensitive wires.

“Smell that?”

“Oh, someone has the vapours.” Denta bit into his neck and he moaned.

Thunderclash dimmed his optics, as servos pinned his wrists to the sides. His struts coiled up and ached, his thighs parted and a mech dove down. The slick heat of a tongue against his panels was all he could focus on. He vented, wiggling his hips.

“My, my, look who’s in heat.” A mech leaned down, roughly grabbing his chin, said mech dove down and nipped at his wires, pulling them up.

“Open, open, open!” A set of digits fidgeted with his panels.

“What are you doing? Waiting?” Another said, their servos running over his chassis.

“Yes,” He answered, his spark burning as he refused to submit to their temptations. His frame begged him to stop, but he forced himself to turn away from the mechs, staring down the hall that Rodimus disappeared down. “Yeah, I’m waiting.”

A servo grabbed at his panel and he moaned, wanting to give in so badly, his engine whining. 

“Look at him, he’s leaking.” A mech snickered, slurping up the excess fluid.

Thunderclash moaned and shut his optics tight. 

Then there was a faint rumble, then a strong gust of air. The fog was sucked into the ventilation shafts. Thunderclash grinned, it wouldn’t be long now, just wait. Servos clawed at his frame, pulling him back. Then a mech stepped over his hips, and pulled his neck wires up, he was met with cold optics. 

Getaway. His mask popped off and the mech stared down at Thunderclash. “I know what this is about,” He grinned, licking his lips and pressing his intake against Thunderclash’s.

His frame almost rejoiced at the touch, the sensation, and he fell against the sly mech, his processor finally dulling into the need between his thighs. The gentle touch of his jaw, the rough pawing at his panels.  _ What would the captain think? What would- _

That answer was handed to him, as Getaway’s frame was roadhouse kicked away from him. Rodimus was fuming, wild optics full of rage. “GET OFF OF HIM!” The captain ran forward, throwing a mech off of Thunderclash, then punting another free. He yelled and snapped at them, pushing the horny zombies back. They sank back, some bleeding energon, others glared at him, challenging him. Rodimus’ engine roared, clearly telling them to frag off. Slowly they back away, leaving them alone. Rodimus huffed, falling on Thunderclash’s waist, rubbing his fore helm and venting. “Not long now.” He turned to Thunderclash.

“Sorry.” Thunderclash smiled, resting a servo on Rodimus’ shoulder.

Rodimus grit his denta. “Don’t you dare make that a habit, that’s not okay.” He snapped, his engine sucking in all the air around them, he jumped to his peds. His optics are hard and bleeding a tamed rampage, ready to be freed like some wild animal. He towered over Thunderclash, his digits clutching Thunderclash’s neck plating, pulling him up. Rodimus leaned down. “Don’t you ever do that again.” He hissed.

Thunderclash nodded, knowing now that his lower panel was struggling to stay closed, and that if he snapped it open a flash flood of his lust would be revealed. “I’m sorry Rodi-” He whined as Rodimus pressed his intake against his, nipping his lip plates open. Thunderclash’s frame shivered and his hips bucked. Rodimus’s engine howled, his digits pulling Thunderclash closer, their denta clashing.  _ Primus! _ His valve cycled down, his thighs squeezed together, his whole frame aching for the captain to slam his spike deep into him.

Rodimus snarled and pulled back, resetting his optics as the fog started to clear up. The captain frowned, his spoiler flicking back, face plates scrunched up in anger.

Thunderclash felt his spark sink, pulling himself to his peds and clearing his intake, feeling the sticky mess between his thighs. Rodimus noticed, spinning around allowing Thunderclash a moment to snag a cloth from his subspace and clean his plates. 

_ “Heh, so close, huh?” The captain smirked leaning against him. “You know, you could’ve held onto him. And let him frag you into next month?” _

Thunderclash shut his optics, knowing very well Rodimus could be between his thighs and his valve would be stuffed. His vents shut tightly and he reset his optics, catching a certain mech grinning. 

Getaway was down the hall, his lips pulled into a fat cat’s pleased smile, then he winked and slipped away.

“Rodi-”

The orange mech held up a servo, reporting the situation to the medical team and his co-captain.

Thunderclash snapped his intake shut, noting the tense posture and Rodimus’ engine roaring with a temper he never heard before. Slowly he slipped past the captain, helm hanging.  _ Well, I guess I should give him space. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry the hornest Autobot alive is coming back, along with some angst!


	5. Pillow Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Horny singles are in your area.  
> *Stares at a fucking slice of cheese* Oh that's hot, dirty slut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, Megatron had to walk Ultra Magnus/Minimus home, or well carry him, poor mech.  
> Also I hope this satisfies someone's kink! ;) But I'm gonna try to keep using it through out this fic. (Kink was dirty talk from someone sweet, aka why was Thunder's not so submissive?)

**_Situation sedated._ ** He commed Megatron, Drift, the medical team. Firstly reporting everything he saw to the CMO.  **_None of the crew seemed to have any major injuries, maybe some broken calibers and rings, torn mesh? I can do a quick sweep of the levels and inform you where the worst cases are?_ **

**** **_:That would be great, I’ll keep the blocks in place. Better to contain this then let it spread to the rest of the ship and crew. Would you like me to send one of my officers down to your location?:_ **

**** Rodimus smiled, his lip plates tingled, like charge buzzed over them.  **_Yes, go ahead and send Velocity._ ** He cut the call, stretching his arm plates, craving that spicy feeling of his frame loosening up. “I gotta say, I’m getting pretty tense, I think I’ll need some time to loosen up. On another note, good to see First Aid filling in Ratchet’s shoes pretty well, don’t you-” He spun around, expecting the colorful sight of Thunderclash. But we greeted with an empty hall, the fog was slipping away and, mechs were groaning, somewhere stumbling into their habs, seeking a good rinse. “Thunderclash?” Rodimus called out, and there was no answer, with a vent he turned away, licking his lip plates, they still buzzed.  _ I wanted to check in on him, he was, well he was under a lot of mechs. Velocity might want to check his spark again.  _

Rodimus felt the air rush past his spoiler, knowing that his spoiler was flicking with a mix of agitation and concern. His peds stomped as he kept his pace down the hall, peeking into the habs as he tried to pick up on the scent of fresh energon.

**_:Rodimus.:_ **

**** He stopped slapping his helm, he completely forgot to comm Megatron!  **_Megs!_ ** _ Your issues can wait, the crew comes first! _ **_The situation is fine, I’m doing a quick sweep as Velocity is sent down for anyone that needs any emergency care. We’re keeping this contained until everyone is squared away._ **

**** **_:Very well, I’ll let you handle this situation. I’ll take care of Ultra Magnus.:_ **

**** Rodimus finally opened his vents once again, rubbing his optics. It’s been a long cycle, far too long. He waited by the stairs, checking his internal systems.

**Spark: 100%**

**Energon Levels: 75%**

**Frame Temperature: 310.928 K and rising**

Rodimus paused at that, strange, he knew his frame would always be a bit hotter compared to normal frames due to his outlier. But this? This is strange. He hummed finding himself deep in thought.

“Captain?” Velocity called, knocking on the wall. “You asked for me?”

“Yes,” He spared a glance down the hall, finding that most mechs were cleaning themselves up, once more his spark sank, Thunderclash was nowhere in sight. “I wanted you to check up on Thunders.”

“Oh?” She smirked. “Worried?”

“Very, I found him under a pile of mechs.” 

Velocity patted his shoulder, then hissed pulling her servo back and shaking it. “Ow, Rodimus you’re burning up.” The medic looked down at him, her yellow optics studying every single plate of his. She narrowed her optics and her face formed into a pout. “Rodimus, you’re whole face is bright blue,” She pulled out a light and flashed it into his eyes. “I can’t believe this.” She mumbled, backing away and taping a few notes on her datapad. “What happened?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, folding his arms and staring up at her, spoiler high.

“Open up, something is really wrong.” He grabbed his arm, then hissed as her paint burned off.

Rodimus yanked his arm back, keeping his medical panel shut. “What are you talking about.” His engine kicked into high gear and his spoiler flicked back with annoyance. 

Velocity leaned down. “I’m not sure, but Rodimus, you’re burning up, you’ve gotten more aggressive and there’s this wild look in your optics. I think whatever happened might’ve triggered you into...I’m not sure but maybe, a ahem-cycle.” She winked.

He backed up, tapping his ped.  _ That can’t be right, my cycle was, well it was earlier this year, and I get them every 5 yea-cycles. And I’m never assertive in my cycles, if anything it’s...submissive.  _ “I don’t think that’s right.” He huffed, clearly Velocity’s prodding just got under his plates.

She groaned. “Rodimus, have you ever had a...frag it” The medic tossed up her servos, throwing in the towel. “That’s it, fine, don’t listen to the doctor, so-” She spun around. “Don’t come crying to me.”

Rodimus rolled his optics, his engine slowing to a low growl, his optics flicked over the halls, watching mech form a line as Velocity started to check they’re systems. Then his spark burned, it wasn’t a pleasant one, not the burn that happened when he was around a certain mech. No this was violent, like a forest fire, it tore through his frame, setting his wires ablaze.

The reason why?

There he was, that little fragger, the one that openly challenged Rodimus, always getting under his plates. Getaway.

The two mechs stared at one another, his frame was laxed, leaned against the wall, he was whistling, clearly proud of the paint transfers on his legs. Then there was Rodimus, tense, so tense he felt a few cables snap loose. Getaway was bragging, taunting him, how? His frame had a few hints of a certain blue, gold, white and orange.

Rodimus licked his lips, feeling that strange buzz once again.  _ I just wanted to check up on Thunderclash today, why does this have to happen? _ With a sigh he turned and left, spoiler still high up on his back plates.  _ Sorry Thunders, I’ll visit you later, this was exhausting.  _ He stuck out his tongue, the weight of his frame becoming more apparent with each step. Processor deep in through over the past few hours.

_ PRIMUS I FRAGGING KISSED HIM! _

__ Rodimus tripped and fell on his face. “Frag me.”

* * *

The door slid shut behind him with a woosh and he typed in his code to lock it, pressing his back to the wall, shutting his optics tightly.  _ My frame, plates, wires, my protoform, it’s so hot.  _ He popped open on optic and checked, there was the main vent, and the vent in his wash rack. With fast digits he shut the vents, only to hover with half of his frame out of the wash rack.  _ Primus Thunderclash! I know this is an intense heat but wow, WOW!  _ His own vents snapped open, a shutter ran up his frame and that stubborn tickle returned. 

Thunderclash hissed. “Fine!” His lower panel flicked open as he stumbled towards the berth. “It’s been a long cycle, and now-” He flopped down on the soft berth and leaned against the wall, his thighs parting. The plush golden valve lips twitched, they glistened in the light, a small puddle of lubricant started to form. His outer node was swollen, so were the lips, a testament to his current dilemma. “Great.” He relaxed against the wall shutting his optics. 

_ “You know.” The Captain rumbled, his engine already in 2nd gear, low but slowly the rumble started to pick up. “You might as well give up.” _

__ Thunderclash groaned, the ever present tickle under his tanks seemed to spread, sinking down towards his array and thighs. “I suppose I should.” He paused licking his lip plates, his plates quivered.  _ He kissed me. _ His legs shivered and his peds curled in, something that happened when his charge started to build.  _ I can't believe he kissed me! His lip plates, Primus, they were so soft an-  _ “Thunderclash you’re horrible, why? Why do you do this?”

_ “Oh” The Captain sat on the end of his berth, inching towards him. “Really? I mean it’s not the first time you’ve thought about my lips,” He grinned, crawling towards Thunderclash, placing his servos on Thunderclash’s knees. He licked his lips, his pointed denta flashing, Thunderclash forgot that the Captain had fangs. “You’ve pictured what these lips can do, haven’t you? But not like this. On your lips, creating tiny dents and scratches along your plates, biting, sucking, squeezing. But you’ve never through about them along your-” His servo slipped down between his thighs, a lone digit ran up, paused and pressed against his puffed up outer node. Rubbing it in slow circles. “Sweet little valve.” _

__ _ Thunderclash moaned, staring down at the sight of his arousal, how his valve was plush and needy, the gentle movements of the Captain. “You know Captain, I’ve often pictured those sweet lips of yours around my spike,” His engine rumbled, slipping a servo around the Captain’s waist. “Maybe a valve might be a challenge?” _

__ _ The Captain paused, an optic ridge rising up. “Really?” His digits moved a little faster, those lips of his formed into a sad small smile. “Sadly, I have other plans tonight.” A digit slipped in, running along the front of his valve, nodes flickering to life. “Thunderclash, oh my, so wet.” _

__ _ His engine rumbled. “I found myself thinking about you.” His hips jerked forward when the Captain struck a certain bundle of nodes. _

__ _ Captain laughed. “Really?” He added another digit, pushing in further and further, that sweet feeling caused Thunderclash’s calibers to close down, aching, begging for those digits to stay in. _

__ _ Thunderclash met that cocky look with his own. “It’s hard no to, now are you going to finger me till I can’ walk or are we going to make energon tea?” _

__ _ The Captain paused, resetting his optics, clutch grinding till it was pushed into 1st gear. “Thunderclash, who knew you had this side?” _

__ _ He vented. “Not many mechs. But you’re avoiding the question.” He leaned forward. “Are you going to frag me into an emergency shutdown? I don’t think you’ve got the tanks for it Captain.” _

__ _ “Heh, not gonna lie, that’s hot.” His digits started to thrust in and out of Thunderclash’s tiny valve, lubricant started to spill out of him, coating his thighs and aft. _

__ _ The craving of friction called to him, a basic need, he needed this, his frame needed this. “Captain,” He moaned, leaning forward and resting his helm on the orange shoulder, hissing between his denta. “Please.” _

__ _ “Hm? What’s wrong, are my digits not enough?” _

__ Thunderclash hissed, retracing his wet digit, staring down at his parted lips, the sweet scent of his self pleasure wafted upwards. His servo hurt, his wrist ached from the constant use and strain that the position put on it. He whimpered at the lack of friction. “Frag, frag,” He rubbed his wrist, wincing at the pain. “Frag, uh…” He glanced around, stopping as he spotted his firm large helm cushion. “Oh, I guess I could.”

_ Servos curled around Thunderclash’s collar, pulling him down. “That’s good.” _

__ _ “Not how I pictured you under me, but-” He shrugged, grinding down on the closed front panel, his valve cycling down. Charge ran up his frame, reaching that certain spot, he moaned, grinding his hips down. “Captain.” He moaned. _

__ _ Servos cupped his thighs, pulling him down. “Good, good, I think I like this angle, what a wet valve, and you don’t even have my spike in you.” _

__ _ Thunderclash moaned, his frame shaking, his pace picking up, when was the last time he did something like this? Did he ever do this? “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” _

__ _ He laughed. “Why wouldn’t I?” _

__ _ “Face it Captain, you wouldn’t last if you were spiking me like this.” _

__ _ “Oh?” The Captain’s fangs flashed again, his servo slapping his servo down on Thunderclash’s aft. Thunderclash groaned, leaning back, venting hard. “Fine then, no spike, let’s see how long you last.” His waist rubbed against Thunderclash’s exposed array port. _

__ _ Thunderclash moaned, as his outer node was pressed against the hot plate, their hips working together. Charge running through his lines, his optics dulling, the Captain’s hips picked up his pace. “C-captain,” He whimpered, his hips growing weak _

__ _ He was pulled closer, their hips almost locking together, and a short strong thrust ran over his outer node. “Look at you, so needy, so wet.” _

__ _ “Rodimus, please.” He shivered, grinding down on the Captain, charge building up in his frame. It was like a blaster, but it slammed into his whole frame, with a moan Thunderclash fell forward. His hips still working as another overload rocked through his frame, he groaned, shuttering as servos cupped his aft. His frame slowed to a stop. “Rodimus.” He panted out, turning to the Captain. _

__ Thunderclash groaned, slapping his helm against the soft berth, another shiver running through his frame, his valve leaking on the cushion, still trying to cycle down on anything. With a deep inhale he collapsed on the berth. He stared at his wrist, frowning. “I think next shore leave I need to get myself some toys.” He then turned to the pillow, already feeling his frame growing sore from the position. “And now I don’t even have a pillow.”

* * *

_ “Look at yourself, so wet, so needy.” He rumbled, his spike pressing deep into that sweet valve. He shivered and struggled to vent, gasping. “Then again I expect nothing less from the ‘Greatest Autobot of All Time’.” _

__ _ Thunderclash moaned, his plates quivering, his denta biting down on the top of the wash rack, his digits curling over the glass. _

__ _ His servos found their way onto Thunderclash’s thighs, his engine pushing itself into 3rd gear and now his hips were slamming upwards. That valve cycling down on his spike, he bit his lips and moaned. “Good boy, taking it so well.”  _

__ _ “Rodimus, please!” Thunderclash whimpered, his engine strutting. _

__ _ That was it, his spike was buried deep in that soft valve, it cycled down and Rodimus held his spike there. Charge running through his wires and his frame, he shook and moaned. “Thunderclash.” He rested his helm against the colorful back, as another overload rocked through Thunderclash’s frame. _

__ Rodimus stared down at his servos, letting the cleanser wash them off, he slid his panel shut and vented. Flicking the rest of the evidence of his ‘fun’ down the drain, with a loud vent and covering his face. “I don’t think this is a crush anymore.”

_ Getaway hovered over Thunderclash, this digits cupping the back of Thunderclash’s helm. Their intakes meeting. _

__ “THAT MOTHER FUCKER!” Rodimus tossed his servos up. “I swear, no mech will recognize him if he ever lays a servo on Thunders-” He shut his intake then growled, spoiler flicking back.  _ What can I even do? Not like I’m dating Thunders or anything… _ He flopped down on his berth, his frame utterly exhausted. “I suppose I should fix that? Alright Rodimus, you can do this, ask him how he’s doing, check up on him. Just lead into what his...romantic life is like, and if IF he’s free...ask him out.”

He rolled onto his back, his spark burning, his frame growing even hotter. 

“It’s not that hard, just ask him out. Heh, fuck, I’m so fucked.” 

_ His lips are pretty soft, and swee- PRIMUS I FUCKING KISSED HIM! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus has joined the game!  
> Will he ask if Thunders is okay? Will he ask the colorful mech on a date? Will me beat Getaway harder then his meat? (yes)


	6. Cat & Mouse Game Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's a rut like for Rodimus?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *crawls out from under your bed* Y'ALL MOTHERS HONRY!? *gross lip licking sounds*

Megatron pulled out the solar system, pointing to a trade outpost. “Here, it’s a safe outpost overlooked by planet Vulcan, we can rest there for a few cycles.”

Ultra Magnus hummed. “The Vulcan people are very...logical, they see no need to ban us from the outpost. As long as no one causes any trouble we should be fine.”

Rodimus stared at the moon, it was big, big enough for a few cities, he wondered if creatures lived there, did they have a school? He nodded. “What is the outpost like?”

“Well, there’s highly regulated areas, but what one would mostly find in an outpost, trades, supplies, hopefully places where mechs can relax.”

“The crew has been getting…’stuffy’ as of recently, and the ‘incident’ still has repercussions.” He tapped his digits on the table, shifting his legs and relaxing how tight his panel was getting. Rodimus vented, shutting his optics. “I think the crew could really use this, it’s been too long and if I hear Brainstorm blew up anything, I’m going to blow a gasket.” He hissed, turning to Ultra Magnus. “Can we get a list of what the outpost has, from bars to entertainment.”

Megatron nodded. “I agree,”

Ultra Magnus rose up from the table. “Very well, I’ll work on that list, and when the Lost Light might land.”

He twitched, his frame boiling, ped tapping. “Alright, sounds good, I’m off.” He bolted out of the room, sucking in cool air and rushing down the hall.  _ Come on Rodimus! It’s not hard, just sit next to him, have a drink or two and ask him out! _ The hall echoed with stomps and roaring engines, it didn’t take long for Rodimus to locate Drift, finding the sword mech outside the medbay (wow shocking!). “Alright, come on, Ratchet has work and you’re getting needy,” he said wrapping an arm around Drift’s waist.

Drift wiggled. “Rodimus!” He hissed, clawing at the walls. “Can’t I get a cube with my Conjux?” 

“Not if he’s on the clock, and you’re collecting dust. Ratchet can thank me later.” He pried Drift off the wall, making his way to the main lifts. “Besides, you’ve got friend stuff to deal with.”

Drift gave in, shooting Rodimus an ugly glare. “Fine, but I’m not going to like it.”

Rodimus spun into the elevator, leaning dramatically against the walls. “Oh no, you won’t like it? I guess you don’t want to race on the lower decks.” He pouted. “I’ll never race with you again.”

The doors shut, Drift vented. “Fine, what’s your problem now you big baby?”

Rodimus sputtered, his engine’s stalling. “Problem? I don-”

“Spill it.” Drift snapped crossing his arms.

Rodimus vented. “Well you were right, I figured it out, who I like.”

There were times Rodimus really wished Drift’s paint had the color changing paint of those mood rings. Not exactly the smartest thing, but at least it would be helpful to see his attitude do a full 180. “Yes!” Drift grinned, slapping his servos together. “I knew it, I fragging knew it.” His digit pressed against Rodimus’ chassis. “Roddy’s got a crush!”

Rodimus rolled his optics, watching Drift almost jump up and down, giddy. “Yea, yea.”

“Sooo, you gonna tell me or?” Drift rested his helm on Rodimus’ shoulder, his blue optics wide and pleading.

Rodimus slapped his servo on Drift’s face. “It’s Thunders, okay, I can feel your smirking.”

“Mmmhm!” He pulled away from Rodimus’ grasp. “So, you gonna ask him out or wallow in self pity?”

“Well I already kiss him so-”

“YOU DID!” Drift squealed.

“Yes I did, and yes I’m going to ask him out, I just need to find the right time.”

Drift was as giddy as a school girl. “Now!”

“What?”

“Now’s a perfect time.” Drift slammed the stop button, the lift jerked to a stop and the doors slid open. He grabbed Rodimus and tossed him out of the lift. “Ask him out now.”

“What?” He squealed rolling onto his aft. “Now?”

“Yea, come on.” Drift gave him a thumbs up before the doors shut.

Rodimus groaned, not exactly what he wanted from his best friend but… _ you can do this Rodimus, just ask him if he wants to get drinks today and just ask!  _ His peds stomped down the hall, he vented and paused, leaning against the wall, opening his comms.  **_Uh, hi Thunders._ ** He started, his vents snapping shut and his ped tapping. 

**_:Oh, hi Rodimus, sorry I rushed off after the horny zombie thing. I needed to get away from that whole situation.:_ **

The ped tapping quickly turned to stomping, his engine roared. _He was buried under a mountain of mechs and that greasy slime ball Getaway just had to kiss him an-_ **_Understandable, I was just checking up on you. Are we still one for drinks tonight?_** Rodimus waited, his energon boiling while his tanks turned inside out.

**_:I’d love to, but I sadly can’t, sorry the old spark is glitching again.:_ **

**** **_Oh okay, well let me know if you need anything._ ** Rodimus groaned clutching his helm, his engine roaring. He knew mechs were watching, some rushed past him while others hid.  _ What’s gotten into me?  _ Rodimus spun and made his way to the stairwell, knowing the lower level was clear, at least there he could let out some steam. 

His altmode spun around the corner tires screaming as he turned into the slide then out, swerving and straightening out his wheels, his engine roared as he raced down the hall, drifting around another corner. Rodimus felt the pull of the floor under him, the ache in his drive shaft, and his coolant flooding his systems. The floors started to gather more and more skid marks, making the panels almost inky black. He slowed to a stop, jumped up and shifting, landing on his peds. “Ugh.”  **_Hey Drift, mission failed, Thunders isn’t feeling well._ **

**** **_:What? You’ll get him next time.:_ **

**** _ Getaway cupped that tender golden jawline and pulled it close, their lips meeting and Thunderclash’s optics shut so softly, needy, as if the kiss was the only thing that mattered.  _ Rodimus stopped, more coolant flooded his systems, as his engine kicks back into gear.  **_I don’t know, maybe he’s avoiding me? Or maybe he doesn’t want me?_ **

**** **_:RODIMUS FRAGGING PRIME!:_ ** Rodimus pictured Drift, but taller than him, sorta the stereotypical Earth mother figure.  **_:Don’t you ever say that! Who wouldn’t want you? You’re a Prime, you’re a captain, you’ve literally befriended Megatron! If anything you’re too good for him, ‘greatest autobot of all time’ doesn’t mean slag!:_ **

**** **_But what if-_ **

**** **_:If he does I’m cutting his cord off.:_ **

**** **_Heh, thanks Drift, but that’s not exactly what I’m after._ **

**** **_:What do you mean?:_ **

**** **_I kinda want to spike him?_ **

**** **_:RODIMUS FRAGGING PRIME YOU DOG!:_ ** Drift screamed into the comm and it cut off.

Rodimus laughed stopping at a dead end and sinking down to his aft, Drift is a good friend, and a great Conjux, maybe when things settle down Rodimus might slip Drift the keys to the Rod-Pod and left Ratchet and him have some alone time. That’s if First Aid drugs Ratchet.

**_:Mind explaining to me why my Conjux is freaking out?:_ **

**_I told him something, and he’s really proud?_ **

**_:Thanks, nothing like having an ex-berserker freaking out in a medbay.:_ **

Rodimus slumped against the wall, letting his engine run and run, watching his coolant reserves slowly slip away. He licked his lip plates and vented, listening to the world around him, pleased that the only sound that greeted him was the Lost Light’s endless breathing. 

_ The meeting was long and boring, like always, but there was one tiny upside, Minimus let him read over the reports on his datapad. As Rodimus skimmed the notes and highlighted a few areas, he only paused to tap on another application, it wasn’t some game, or anything fancy, just a few controls and buttons. To everyone else that’s what it was, but Rodimus knew exactly what this simple app could do. Lazily he pushed a vertical bar up, but stopped about ⅓ up, he then pressed a few other buttons and returned to the app. _

_ The meeting ended and Rodimus tucked the datapad into his subspace, making his way to Swerve’s and ordering 2 drinks to go, he paid and left. Rodimus took his sweet time, skimming his datapad and playing with that app every now and then, he finally pushed the bar to ½ up and waited.  _

_ Finally bored Rodimus typed in the code to his locked hab and slipped in, making sure that a sound didn’t escape. “I’m home.” He called out setting the drinks down, interlocking his digits and stretching his arms and then down his back struts and finally his waist and hips. “What a day, huh? That meeting was boring, but well what can you expect, Minimus does like to nitpick everything. He’s a good SIC.” Rodimus vented, his spoiler flicking back and he hummed, sipping away at one of the cubes and having a seat on his custom bean bag. “I suppose you’re day was...pretty attentive?” _

_ His optics finally met the frame on the berth, there he was, Thunderclash, his limbs were bound with thick wire, his thighs were spread open and there was a rather large gag in his intake. The best part was that false spike buried deep in that sweet valve of his, Rodimus flicked the controls and watched as the spike inflated and pushed even deeper into Thunderclash. Thunderclash’s colorful frame hissed and bucked, his hips tried to ride that spike, push it further into his valve, but all he did was ooze more lube onto it. _

_ “Doing alright there?” _

_ Thunderclash nodded, his red optics were almost pink with charge. _

_ “I got us some drinks, I figured after a few hours of this you might need it. So?” _

_ He nodded again. _

_ Rodimus jumped up, and untied the gag from Thunderclash’s intake, he watched as Thunderclash opened and shut his denta a few times, flexing his plates. Rodimus leaned down and rubbed the corners, knowing that they would be sore for a while. Thunderclash huffed and rested his helm on Rodimus’ chassis, his frame was hot, and purred with charge. He put the straw in Thunderclash’s intake and watched as the energon vanished before him. “Okay?” _

_ Thunderclash nodded and turned to Rodimus’ side, lapping along his waist plates, his hot vents crawled down to Rodimus’ protoform. His lip plates run along Rodimus’ panels and trace every edge, his denta pull on the edges, teasing Rodimus.  _

_ Rodimus stared down at the colorful mech, optics softening, his panel clicked open and his spike stood proudly. Thunderclash rumbled and licked his lips, taking the tip into his intake and sliding Rodimus’ chord in. Rodimus huffed and held onto Thunderclash’s helm fins, he sucked softly and ran his tongue along Rodimus’ spike. “Good, you’re such a good charge dump.” He slowly swayed his hips into Thunderclash’s hot intake, lazily he toyed with his datapad, finally flicking that bar to the very top. _

_ Thunderclash quivered under him, the toy he rode started to hum and more trails of lubricant slipped out of his valve. _

He shouldn’t be doing this, not here, and not now, there wasn’t a spark in sight, the lower levels were silent, just the creaking of the Lost Light around him. Rodimus parted his legs and bit his lip plates. Wishing that Thunderclash was here, or that they were in the bar, or one of their habs. “This is getting out of control.”

_ His hips were moving faster, pushing deeper into Thunderclash’s soft hot intake, it was slick and tight. “I knew you’d be good at this, like everything else, huh?” He clutched the fins on Thunderclash’s helm tigther. His charge raced through his frame, and Thunderclash’s lip plates tightened around the base of his cord. Rodimus moaned. “I wonder what else that intake of your’s can do.” He purred, and gasped as overload slammed through his systems, charge rolled through his frame and he fell over Thunderclash’s helm. _

Rodimus grumbled, quickly cleaning up. “Fragging...Still frustrated and I didn’t even-” He hissed, his frame sizzled, smoke rose off of him. He stopped, venting. “I need to talk to him.” _ Just find out when he’s working and...yea, ‘Hey Thunders, mind I take you out?’. Primus, how did Ratchet and Drift ever hook up?!  _

* * *

_ “I don’t like how he’s been watching you.” The Captain hissed, his plates flaring out, blue optics narrowing. _

Thunderclash ignored the display of anger, typing in the new power core inputs. He admitted he didn’t like it either, the way Getaway would lounge around, it was predatory, and it made his tanks twist.

_ “It’s because he kissed you, isn’t it? You don’t see me hunting you down like some overcharged cyber cat.” _

He sat back recording the new data and sending it off to Perceptor and Brainstorm. Thunderclash huffed, his frame was hot and stuffy, his plates became over sensitive and itchy, his wrists were killing him and his pillow was soaked. At this rate he was tempted to comm the last mech he shared his last heat with, but he was sure Ratchet couldn’t handle him at the moment and well the idea of an enraged Drift wasn’t pleasant. But he had other options, he could ask Velocity, but she was busy in the medbay, she was needed there, Riptide was an idea, but he might not last as long as Thunderclash needed. 

_ “Or, or, just an idea, you can frag me?” The Captain stomped around him, spoiler fluttering. “Come on, you’ve wanted to for awhile now, huh? And not just due to this heat, you wanted to see how much of your spike this frame could take, see how much Rodimus’ valve can stretch over your spike. You know his plates and calibers would stick out afterwards.” The Captain stopped, cupping his chin.  _

Getaway was another option.

_ “What?! Him?” The Captain gawked. “Nope, no, just no. Thunderclash you dipstick, just comm Rodimus and say ‘hey my heat kicked in and I’d love to feel your trans-fluid fill my channel’. Do you know how fast he would jump on you?” _

They did have a budding friendship, meeting for drinks, but that didn’t make them close.

_ “He kissed you! He could’ve joined the horny orgy, but he threw that limp wet sock Getaway off of you and kissed you! If the air system wasn’t working do you know what he would be doing with you? What would he do to you now?” _

Thunderclash shut his optics, hissing. “I’m not fragging Rodim-”

“Hey Thunde-”

“AAAA!” He screamed falling out of the seat and throwing the datapad into the air. Rodimus stood over him, covering his intake and fighting back laughter. Thunderclash sputtered and stood up, dusting the dirt off his frame. “Sorry Captain.”

“It’s okay, you’ve been pretty jumpy as of late.” He shrugged, his engine purred.

That sound made Thunderclash’s valve clench. “So what can I do for you?”

“Hmmm, nothing.” He shrugged and flopped down on the other seat, putting his peds up. Rodimus paused as his optics locked onto something, or someone. Getaway swiftly left. Rodimus’ plates flared out and his engine roared.

“Rodimus?”

He shook himself, engine settling into a gentle purr. “Sorry, so what ya doing?”

“My job, or one of them, I’m checking the output of the core.” He sat down, holding in his ventilation. The other Captain sat on the controls, grinning, spoiler flapping.

_ “Did you see that? He’s being territorial, Thunders just open your panels now!” _

“Hey Thunders?”

“Yea?”

“Are you avoiding me?”

He paused, staring down at the data, he spared a quick glance to Rodimus. Thunderclash admitted that he was, in fact right now he wanted nothing more to either slip away, or slip open his panel and-

“Thunders?” He placed his servo on Thunderclash’s knee.

“Oh sorry, no I’m not I’m just...Giving you space, after the uh horny zombie thing.” He swallowed hard, feeling the heat from Rodimus’ servo, Rodimus gave his knee a squeeze and Thunderclash clenched his denta as a moan almost escaped his intake. 

_ “Spread your legs for him, you know he’d frag you into tomorrow.” The Captain teased wiggling his hips. _

“So…” He started, licked his lip plates, his spark raced and his frame burned. How his valve cycled down and another gush of lubricant flooded his panels, it started to leak through his lower panel.

Rodimus huffed, his aft moved from the seat onto Thunderclash’s thigh, his weight sent charge through Thunderclash’s frame. “I wanted to talk to you about that.” Rodimus whispered, it was deep and husky, his optics dimmed and his fangs flashed.

“O-oh?” His throat tightened, spark racing.

A burning servo pressed against his wide white chest, Rodimus stared down at his chest before falling against Thunderclash. His engine pushed itself into 4th gear, his whole frame purred. Then Rodimus pressed his face plate into the side of Thunderclash’s neck, hot vents crawled through Thunderclash’s sensitive wires, down to his very core. 

“W-wh-what did you want to talk about?” He stuttered out, as another wave of charge ran through his frame, he knew for certain the seat under him was wet. 

His servos gripped Thunderclash’s shoulders and he pulled himself away from Thunderclash’s neck wiring. His optics, they were dark, almost a navy blue, Rodimus pressed forward, licking his lips, their intakes only inches apart. There was this demeanor his captain had, how his digits curled around Thunderclash’s plates, how his engine rumbled, his spoiler raised, it shouted something. Thunderclash wasn’t sure what it was.

He was sure of one thing, his valve was throbbing, cycling as another hot gush of lube filled his panels. Thunderclash leaned forward, words caught in his intake. When did Rodimus have freckles?

**PING!**

Rodimus hissed spinning around and pressing his digits to the side. “Yea?” He snapped, his engine kicked back into 3rd gear. Thunderclash cupped his intake as overload crashed into his frame, his valve cycled down and his frame quivered. He shut his optics tightly as the high started to fade, his processor turned to mush and his frame swayed.

Rodimus jumped off of him, snapping into his comm, whatever it was about must’ve upset him.

Thunderclash sent away the data and rose to his peds, stumbling. He knew this feeling a bit too well. Somehow, Rodimus didn’t even kiss him, but that was enough to blow a fuse. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, so close, so very VERY close, shame tho.


	7. Cat & Mouse Game Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thunderclash NEEDS Rodimus at this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright here it is, extra horny hours, so they're gonna fuck y'all, and what do you want?

Rodimus hissed shutting his comm off, he was livid, someone had to interrupt him and- 

He spun around slamming his servos down on the armrests and purring. “So wha-” The chair was empty? _What? How? How can the chair be empty, he was right here and Rodimus was on his lap, and Thunderclash’s neck was so warm and sweet._ “How can anyone that big just slip away?!” He hissed.

The chair squeaked, the only warning he got before it rolled back and his chin slammed down on the cushion. Rodimus wanted to throw the chair at this point, melt everything in sight and go on a man hunt just to find Thunderclash. But that all came to a halt. _Why is my chin wet?_ Rodimus sat back and rubbed off whatever was on his chin. _He was sitting there, and I was on his lap and I had my face in his neck, was I about to do something?_

_What is this?_

It was thick but still liquidy, there was a slight pinkish shine to it. It had this heavy scent to it, it was like caramelized sugar. 

He got another alert asking for him to open his panel.

_I GET IT! I WANT TO FUCK THUND- no, wait is this? Is it? DID HE JUST?_

Rodimus cupped his intake as another alert popped up, once more asking him to open his panel, which was stuffy, very stuffy, almost if he robbed a whole packaging company of stuffing kind of packed.

_He overloaded just from me sitting on his lap and shoving my face in his neck._

He got another alert.

* * *

“ _PRIMUS DID YOU JUST OVERLOAD?!” The Captain skipped right next to him, each bounce his frame got high enough that his crown scrapped the ceiling._

He stopped clutching the wall, gasping, his knees were weak, the world spun around him and his helm rang. Blowing a fuse wasn’t fun, blowing a fuse when you overload could be fun, but blowing a fuse while the mech you’ve thought about pounding your tight sensitive valve was just sitting there panting into you neck cables? _This if is some kind of joke, Primus strike me now._

A ceiling tile slammed into his helm and an orange servo slapped his face, Rung the ship’s therapist hung halfway out of the vents. “Hi Thunderclash, sorry about that.” He smiled. “I was helping the medical team clean up the vents and well some of these need new supports.”

Thunderclash nodded and just shuffled off, waving off any mechs. “Fragger went ahead and made me blow a fuse.” He grumbled. “What is he trying to do, make me short-out?”

_“Hmmm, you know it’s not like you took any medical classes in the academy~!” The Captain sang and spun around._

“I’m sorry if all my energon is going to my panel.” He hissed. “Besides how do you know that?”

_“Because I’m a mental representation of what you really desire, and this is a hallucinogenic illusion of what you find as your ideal partner in this situation. Some mechs in heat that deny themselves relief often have said illusions, it starts off with a recharge fluctuation, then escalates to real time self servicing. It’s only until said mech in heat had found the ideal partner that the illusion disappears.”_

“How come you haven’t?”

_“Well when the mech in heat still refuses to frag, the illusion takes on this new characteristic, pushing the mech to their ideal partner. So in short, Thunderclash you need to frag Rodimus.”_

“Or?”

_The Captain screamed and clutched his helm. “Don’t even say that! Thunderclash you know what’s going to happen, you don’t frag Rodimus than you’re frame is going to keep getting hotter and hotter, you’ll keep blowing fuses. And me,” He slapped his chassis. “I’m going to be projected onto any mech on the ship, and you’ll collapse with your panels open and willing for anyone. And even if you get to that point you might not survive because your frame is literally cooking itself alive right now!”_

Thunderclash leaned against the wall, his helm still rang. “How do you know all this?”

_“I’m literally your processor telling you to go frag Rodimus, I know everything in there, every wet dream, every useless bit of information you have stored, I even know your old locker combo.” The Captain leaned forward. “But none of that matters, right now you need to turn back, sit back down in that wet chair with your panel open and let Rodimus do what he needs to do.”_

Thunderclash shut his optics, his engine drummed, his frame shivered and the world was still off balance to him. How did he let things get so far out of control? Would he resort to that? Collapsing with his panel open and letting anyone frag him? Or turn to Rodimus? _His servos were so hot, and his breath on his neck, his engine, the way his plates stretched out when he spotted Getaway._ His valve cycled down again, the oversensitive nodes ached. “If you’re so smart, what was Rodimus doing back there?”

_“Thunderclash, when I mean ‘let Rodimus do what he needs to do’ I mean it. I keep pointing you to Rodimus for several reasons, yes you have a crush on him, yes he’s your ideal partner. When you unleashed the horny zombies? Guess what? When Rodimus kissed you? When he chucked that cuck off? RODIMUS IS IN A RUT BECAUSE OF YOU!” The Captain threw his arms up. “That whole display? Flaring his plates, he scared off a challenger, he wanted to ask you something? He forgot because he was scenting you. That whole nudging his face into your neck?” The Captain leaned forwards and cupped Thunderclash’s chin. “He would’ve marked you, and then teased you, sucked on your wiring, rubbed your sopping panel, squeezed your thighs, kissed you.”_

Another overload slammed through his systems, just the idea of Rodimus doing anything like that? That was enough to send Thunderclash over again, a line of lube ran down his thigh, his hips started to rock back and forth. His hold on the way slid and he stared down at his peds.

_The Captain leaned down into his line of sight. “If he didn’t get that call, if you didn’t run away? He would’ve claimed you.”_

Thunderclash whimpered, he shut his optics tight, willing his frame to steady itself. “I’m needed in the storage bay.” He pushed forward, ignoring his wobbly knees, the ringing in his helm, the constant cycling down of his valve. 

_“Thunderclash.”_

He stopped unable to look back at the Captain.

_“You know what happens next, I’m going to be everywhere soon, every mech on this ship is going to be me, and you’ll give in… You know that right?”_

He nodded. “How long do I have?”

_“I’m not sure, but soon, you might not make it till the end of this shift. Thunderclash, I hope that Rodimus finds you before then, if he’s in his rut, he’ll get you out of there.”_

“That’s if he finds me.”

_“He’ll find you.”_

* * *

He stepped out of the engine’s room, knowing he had reports, lots of reports, sense the zombie thing he’d been neglecting his work, even more than normal. Rodimus shut his optics and rubbed his face. “Come one Rodimus, you’ve got a job to do.” _The seat, he overloaded from me, it was soaking for frags sake!_ “You have a job to do.” _I can still smell it on my digits, it’s valve lube for sure, I made him overload without opening his panel._ “I have a job to do.” He opened his optics and vented.

The halls stretched out in front of him, to the right would be his office, where he needed to go. But in front of him was ped print, a big one, it was clear, but had a pink shine. Then there was another one and another one, all leading to the left.

_Thunderclash. He’s leaking._

Another alert popped up in his helm.

Rodimus turned left.

* * *

He heaved the container up and set it into its slot, turning back to the pallet that held several more. Mostly excess supplies that needed to be checked in again and again, to prevent stealing. Thunderclash found himself a tiny little corner where he could work at his own pace, alone. Lucky for him.

His helm rested on a container, his frame was burning now, his fans couldn’t keep up anymore, he was sure most of them were melted by now. Thunderclash stared down at his peds and saw the puddle of his own lube start to form, his seal broke for sure. “Rodimus.” He moaned, shut his optics and heaved another container up and shoved it into its place, stumbling back. Another warning popped up in his processor, he ignored it.

He peered out of the hold and saw a few mechs, they all were yellows and oranges, their frames turned thin and pointy. It was faster than he thought, everyone was the Captain.

The stairs clacked as a mech ran up them, Thunderclash shut his optics and curled up.

“Thunderclash?”

He whimpered, the servo was enough, he could feel another charge building up. “Please go away.”

Soft digits curled under his chin and gently lifted his helm up, it was the Captain, they all were, every mech on this ship was Rodimus. “You don’t look so well.” He rested a servo on Thunderclash’s cheek.

That was all it took, another overload rocked his frame and he moaned, then jerked as another fuse was blown. Then his panel slid open.

* * *

Rodimus stared into Thunderclash’s optics, they were fuzzy, the scent of burnt metal filled the small storage area. The flood of lube coated Rodimus’ ped, and for once he didn’t get an alert for open his panel. He could frag later, now Thunderclash just blew a fuse, and it looks like it’s not the first one either. “Thunders, can you hear me?”

“Rodimus,” he whimpered, his legs parting. “Please.” He whined and his hips started to buck upwards, scraping against Rodimus’ peds. “Please Captain, I need you.” He reached forward.

Rodimus grabbed his servos, pushing them down. “Thunderclash, you’re not doing so well, we need to get you out of here.”

Thunderclash whined. “No, please, I just want you, please.”

He leaned forward, once more holding Thunderclash’s helm. “You can have me, okay? Just you need to wait a little longer, I need you to get up and close your panel, okay?”

“You’re going to frag me?” 

“Yea, okay, I’ll do that, but right now we need to go.” 

Thunderclash moaned. “Please, please, Rodimus, I need you.” He grabbed hold of Rodimus and pulled him closer.

_He’s not listening, why isn’t he listening, his frame it’s too hot, he’s blowing fuses left and right an- HE NEEDS TO LISTEN!_ Thunderclash’s servos were all over him, rubbing his spoiler, running over his panel, his lips were weakly kissing his, his movements were too slow, too sloppy. _THAT’S IT!_ Rodimus grabbed Thunderclash’s servos and pinned them over the colorful mech’s helm, he shoved Thunderclash against the wall and snarled, flashing his fangs, his engine squealed and roared. “Listen to me.” He growled..

Thunderclash froze, his optics filled with focus and fear.

“You are going to close your panel, get to your peds, and we are going to leave, we’re going to my hab. Once there we’re going to take a cool bath, understood?” He leaned forward, inches away from Thunderclash’s face.

Thunderclash nodded.

“Good, now I don’t want to hear a moan, whimper or whine from you until we’re in my hab.” He let go of Thunderclash and backed away. “Close it.”

He did, with a snap.

“Get up.” Rodimus pulled out a rag.

Thunderclash did.

Rodimus quickly cleaned off anything noticeable on Thunderclash’s legs, he also alerted the cleaning drones of the mess, knowing that in 5 minutes it would be spotless. He turned to Thunderclash and snagged his servo. “You’re not letting go of my servo until I say so.”

They speed-walked out of there, Thunderclash stumbled behind him and his helm turned to every other mech, it was only the occasional roar from Rodimus’ engine that made the colorful mech keep up. Then that was his challenge, every mech that passed his plating flared out, and he pulled Thunderclash closer and closer. He glared at mechs, pushed past some, he even passed Drift who he just shoved aside.

It was only when his hab door shut behind him did Rodimus relax, Thunderclash moaned and fell forward, catching himself on the wall as another overload rocked his frame, another fuse blew. “Captain!” He cried out, his panel slipped open and a new gush of lube dripped down his thighs. “Captain please!”

“Come on.” He led Thunderclash into the captain’s wash racks, where he had a bath big enough for both of them. “Let go and get in.”

Thunderclash let go of his servo and glanced at the door, whining.

Rodimus’ engine roared again. “Did I stutter?!”

Thunderclash sunk into the empty tub.

He rushed around and filled the tub with a cool cleanser, knowing that Thunderclash was watching him this whole time, whimpering. It was only when the tub was full did Rodimus join in, he rushed to Thunderclash’s side. The water around him steamed. “You’re burning up.”

Thunderclash nodded.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I thought I could get through this alone, and thought you might reject me.”

Rodimus’ spark softened. “Well now you’re only worry is not dying.” He crawled up the side and leaned against Thunderclash. 

“Captain, are you really Rodimus?”

He leaned back and smirked. “I don’t think there’s any other Captain Rodimus’s on this ship.” Finally he could think, or well sorta, Thunderclash was okay, his frame as cooling down and his fuses stopped blowing for now. Thunderclash was safe, Thunderclash was here. Rodimus’ spoiler wiggled, he leaned forward and nuzzled his helm back into Thunderclash’s neck. He knew this scent now, he remembered it. _So needy, so ready._ He sucked on a sensitive wire and Thunderclash moaned, leaning to the side and exposing more wires. _So many to pick, so many to choose, big, small, red, blue...this one, this wire, it leads to his spark, leads to his panels and his processor._ He sucked on it, rolling it between his denta, then finally he bit down, a small charge danced on his lips and Thunderclash moaned. _Marked._

“Captain.” Thunderclash whimpered.

Rodimus lapped at the wire, checking if the mark was big enough, enough to ward off challengers who might think they could steal Thunderclash away. It was there, it would heal, but there would be a scar. 

“Captain, please.” His hips bucked and rubbed.

Rodimus hissed and towered over him, sitting on the edge and pulling Thunderclash’s helm in his lap. There he put his engine into a low rumble and rubbed Thunderclash’s helm, lulling the exhausted wounded mech into a daze before ordering him to rest on the berth. 

Thunderclash fell into a deep recharge, here he was safe, resetting his fuses and he was with Rodimus. Rodimus joined him on the berth, resting his helm on the massive white chest while staring at the door, no one was going to get Thunderclash now. 

_Mate is safe, mate is recovering, mate is mine._

He rumbled.

_Almost mine._

His servo snaked down and stopped over Thunderclash’s hot panel, Rodimus cupped it, it burned and lube bubbled out of the edges, and Thunderclash deep in recharge moaned and his thighs parted and hips thrusted against Rodimus’ touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thunders: fuck me  
> Rodimus: hoe you dying, we gotta get your ass into the cold soup  
> Thunders: fuck me~!  
> Rodimus: DID I STUTTER?!
> 
> me: what do you want?  
> y'all: ummm  
> me: RODIMUS IS GONNA PUT HIS SPIKE IN THAT VALVE, GIVE ME YOUR KINKS! GIVE ME YOUR POSITIONS! AND GIVE ME YOUR DIRTY TALKS!


	8. Cool Down Then Heat Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is part 1 of 2, the 2nd part will update soon, like the following day???

Slow steady circles, small circles, he pushed his digits down and rubbed tiny circles around, then around again into the back of Thunderclash’s helm. It soothed the warm frame under him, the engine finally slowing down to a steady drumming. Thunderclash’s handsome face was buried against Rodimus’ thigh, hot air tickling him with each exvent. 

The whole hab was thick in the pinkish fog, the same fog that made the crew mad with lust. He should be fragging Thunderclash until his frame rusted, and yet he wasn’t. Instead, he waited next to the mech in heat, rubbing his helm, soothing sore lines, and filing away a report to make sure Thunderclash didn’t need to work for a while. Privileges of being a captain. He also messaged Velocity to inform her that Thunderclash would be needing new fans soon.

He’d have to leave shortly, he had another upcoming meeting. 

His frame ruffled up at the thought, he didn’t want to leave. Thunderclash was here, he was safe, but he was also weak and exposed if left alone. Rodimus couldn’t leave him, not now, he hadn’t touched Thunderclash enough yet. If anything he wanted to order some treats from Swerve's and lock them away in his hab together.

He glanced down at the bite mark, his mark. To others the message was plain and simple.  _ He doesn’t belong to you, he belongs to me. _

His datapad buzzed. Rodimus only had a few minutes before the meeting was scheduled to start.

Thunderclash moaned and pressed his face against Rodimus’ side even more, smelling him. 

“I suppose I should.” Rodimus said as he lightly shook Thunderclash’s shoulder and leaned down as the blue mech woke up.

Thunderclash yawned, then blinked his optics. He was still tired and healing from his blown fuses. He stared up at Rodimus, a faint whine escaped his intake.

“Thunderclash, can you hear me?”

He nodded.

“Okay, I’m going to step out for a bit, I need to, and I’ll be back as soon as I can; I’m sorry, I need to go.”

Thunderclash whined and his optics softened as he pressed his face into Rodimus’ chassis.

Rodimus huffed and patted his helm in response. “I know, but you need to rest. I’ll be back soon, can you hold on till then?”

Thunderclash whimpered and shook his helm.

“Just fall back into recharge for a bit longer.” Rodimus pried Thunderclash’s helm from his chassis and cupped his face. “Comm me if you need me.” He kissed those golden lips, so soft and so sweet. He then slipped out from Thunderclash’s hold, and the colorful mech collapsed on the berth, his puppy eyes following Rodimus. “Just let your frame reset itself, I’ll be in and out.”

Rodimus slipped out, and the door slid shut behind him. As he locked it his plates puffed out and his servos balled into fists.  _ Shouldn’t leave him.  _ Rodimus pressed forward hoping Megatron and Minimus would make this meeting fast. 

* * *

“Ugh.” Thunderclash slowly rolled over feeling the tension in his frame, his processor was under a strong sticky fog. He huffed and stared up at the ceiling, locking his servos together while trying to piece together where he was, what had happened, and why he felt like slag.

He was in a huge hab with solar boards that hung off the wall, a berth that was huge, and he noticed the supplies of poslih.  _ Rodimus, I’m in Rodimus’ hab. That somewhat answers a question. I was in the storage bay, my frame was too hot, then he was there, and he told me what to do. Why did I listen? _

__ _ “Because you’re in heat and he’s in a rut, you’re going to submit to him.” The Captain snapped. _

__ _ Thanks. I then followed him here and he put me in a cold bath and-  _ He reached up to his neck wiring and gently tugged on a particularly tender one. His digits ran over the marks on the wire. They would scar, but they weren’t painful. 

_ “He marked you.” _

Thunderclash hissed and pushed himself up.

_ “Woah, woah!” The Captain rushed in front of him, servos up. “You have no coolant, none, zip. Do  _ **_not_ ** _ move like that! You’re still overheating, and trust me, if the medical staff is called in here when Rodimus isn’t here, you’re going to have a bad time.”  _

__ “Why would I have a bad time?”

_ “Oh I’m sure a mech in a rut would love finding a group of mechs surrounding the mech he just marked.”  _

__ Thunderclash huffed and slowly laid back down, licking his intake. “I should talk to him.”

_ Finally a good idea, go ahead and comm him.” The Captain huffed, folded his arms and sat back. _

__ Thunderclash rolled his optics.  **_Hey, Rodimus?_ **

**** **_:Yes?:_ **

**** He sucked in cool air and shivered, his hips jerked up and he licked his lip plates.  **_When can I expect you back?_ **

**** **_:Soon, I just picked up some coolant and energon from Swerves, and some oils cakes.:_ **

**** **_Oh, well uh, thank you._ **

**** **_:My pleasure.:_ **

**** _ “Look at you, got the great Rodimus Prime wrapped around your...valve?” He smirked. “So, how is the Captain going to find you, the Greatest Autobot of All Time?” _

__ “He’s going to find me here, lying down relaxed, and recovering.” Thunderclash huffed. “Stupid program.” He shut his optics, humming and feeling the stiffness in his frame dissipate as the heat returned. Thunderclash rolled his hips, listening to the cushion under him groan due to the new found friction. Then there was the ache deep in his frame, one he had been trying to ignore since the very start of this horrible heat.

_ “Hey look up on the bright side, his spike is finally going to be buried deep inside of you, huh?” The Captain sunk down, smirking.  _

__ “Shut up.” Thunderclash flipped off the program and shuttered his optics, a moan escaped his intake.  _ Rodimus, where are you? _ His valve clenched and his processor buzzed.  _ This stubborn heat is driving me nuts. I could go find a par- _

__ _ “You’re marked, and you shouldn’t be moving, just sit there and think about Rodimus spike sinking deep into your tight sensitive valve.” _

__ Thunderclash huffed. “I just-ugh! I want him now!”

The door slid open and Thunderclash jerked up, Rodimus rushed over and pressed him back into the plush berth. “Slow down.” His tone was firm and it purred in Thunderclash’s helm.

_ “Look at that, he’s still giving you orders, starving his own coding to make sure you’re okay. Thunders!”  _

“Rodimus.” He moaned his hips grinding down on the soft fabric, he could smell the strong rut scent, but the look the prime gave him stilled his movements. Thunderclash whimpered.

Rodimus nodded leaving his side and grabbing a massive can and a straw, he handed it to Thunderclash. “You’re very low, your wires are burning up and your fuses are still resetting.” 

He stared down at the huge can, wanting to toss aside the 10 gallon bucket of coolant and just tackle the smaller mech, then ride him till the rest of his fuses blew. 

_ “Bad idea, he might reject you then, or well at least get pretty upset with you.” _

__ Thunderclash whined and threw off the lid, drinking down the cool refreshing coolant, slowly the bucket started to drain until it was half empty. He sat back, getting a few warning messages. “Please?” 

Rodimus shook his helm and handed him a cube. “Just a little more, okay?” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto Thunderclash’s helm. 

Thunderclash downed the drink. Huffing, he stared up into Rodimus’ optics. “Now?”

“A little longer.” Rodimus’ engine rumbled to life.

He felt his valve cycle down and his frame race with excitement, every plate rattled. Thunderclash sighed, turning his helm to the side and exposing the recent marking. It was still tender, but it was there. His valve panel clicked back and he shuttered at the cool air. “Please,” He leaned forward, resting his helm against Rodimus’. “Captain, I can’t wait any longer.”

Rodimus’ spoiler wiggled, then stilled, perfectly still. His engine roared and his fangs bit down on his lip plates. “Thunderclash?”

“Yes Captain?”

Rodimus shuttered. “Please lean back.”

He did, and his thighs parted as the slick sound of his valve filled the room. Rodimus stood over him, a cloud of heat escaping his intake as he grinned. He knelt over thunderclash and ran his digit down Thunderclash’s chassis and midplates, then paused just above his valve. Thunderclash cried out, his valve twitching. “Please, I want to feel you inside of me.”

Those digits slipped between his swollen valve lips. “In due time, I promise you that.”

He hissed, he wanted it now, he needed it now, he needed to feel Rodimus’ spike stuff his tiny valve now! “Rodimus,” He whined.

That earned him a roar from Rodimus’ engine. “I know, but I’m not going to hurt you,” He knelt down pressing his digits to Thunderclash’s swollen outer node. “I just need to loosen you up.”

“Rodimus I-”

Rodimus’ intake sealed over his outer node, and Rodimus’ tongue lapped around his it. 

Thunderclash’s vents hitched, and his optics glitched. His intake opened and a wordless moan escaped.

Rodimus smirked. His tongue traced around Thunderclash’s node, pressed down on it flicked, then finally he sucked. Thunderclash hissed, and his hips bucked towards Rodimus’ face. A servo pressed down on his inner thigh and pinned him there, Rodimus’ hot intake lapped at his valve. He then sat back, and rested his helm on Thunderclash’s propped up knee. His digits traced down his thigh, and rested just next to Thunderclash’s drooling valve. “So wet, I never expected the greatest Autobot of all time to be offering his valve.”

Thunderclash whined. “Captain,” He begged his hips jerking forward, his valve twitching.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, your Captain is here now.” His digit dipped down into Thunderclash.

He reached down grasping for Rodimus’ servo, only to hear the growl of that engine and Thunderclash sunk back. “Please.” Instead his servo rested on Rodimus’ thigh, his thumb rubbed the closed hot panel.

Rodimus stared down at this sopping valve, his digit pushed in and out, rolling around his tight chamber. “You’re so small, so tiny, I can feel you already cycling down on my digit.” He ran his digit over s bundle of sensitive nodes. Thunderclash hissed, and his optics flashed. “It’s okay, I’ll stretch you out.”

Thunderclash groaned and shook his helm, his down servo ground against the closed panel. “Spike me, please.”

Rodimus shook his helm, and added in a new digit. “No, not yet, soon.” He pumped in and out of Thunderclash, his whole servo covered in lube. The captain’s digits curled inwards, rubbing over a bundle of nodes. Nodes that had been long forgotten.

Thunderclash’s overload tore through him and he moaned. His frame tensened, then slumped on the bert. He panted as his thighs twitched. Rodimus pulled his servo out of the soaking golden valve, only to bring it up to his face. He watched his captain, his prime, the leader of the ship, lap off the thick lube that coated his digits and servo. “Please.”

Rodimus leaned down, his tongue flicked out as he sunk down between Thunderclash’s thighs. He lapped at the outer node before sinking down to the plush valve lips, licking and sucking at the hidden nodes. Thunderclash struggled to vent, shuttering his optics and panting. Rodimus’ digits sunk into Thunderclash’s thigh, pressing under the sensitive panels. His tongue slipped in, lapped slowly at the inside, slipping into his channel. He slurped down the lube that squirted from Thunderclash, loving the taste of his mate. So aroused and ready for him. 

Thunderclash whimpered. Rodimus felt wonderful inside him, his tongue wiggled into places that Thunderclash hadn’t felt in ages. He wanted more, so much more. His servo reached out but stopped when Rodimus growled at him. With a faint huff Thunderclash waited, feeling his frame’s charge build up again as Rodimus devoured his valve. With each swipe of Rodimus’ sweet tongue his hips jerked up, charge cracked over his frame and Thunderclash moaned, falling back into the berth.

Rodimus didn’t stop sucking and rocking his denta against Thunderclash’s nodes as he slurped up another wave of lube. Thunderclash stared down at Rodimus, his blue optics were hard, and tore through Thunderclash’s plates. It sent a shiver down his back struts. With a shaky servo, he brought it to his intake, only to pause as Rodimus growled.

“ _ He wants to hear you.” The Captain smirked, leaning over Thunderclash. “Let him. He wants to know how good of a mate he’s being.” _

__ “Rodimus,” Thunderclash whimpered, his hips twitching with each slick stroke of Rodimus tongue. Another gasp escaped him, he felt his overload coming, Rodimus knew it was coming, but his movement didn’t slow. Thunderclash whimpered, his digits curled around the plush coverings, and his optics watered. Rodimus didn’t take his optics off of him, and his tongue didn’t slow. He allowed Thunderclash to ground his array into his intake. 

“ _ That’s right, reward him, he’s been such a good boy.” _

__ He couldn’t stop himself if he tried, Thunderclash felt his overload crawl up his frame, charge plucking at his wires, his nodes, every sensitive bit of him. His peds curled up as he pressed his array into Rodimus’ intake, his processor slipped, and Thunderclash finally overloaded.

Rodimus didn’t look away.


	9. Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They fuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus last chapter: ah, i'm going to take my time with this, he just blew a few fuses and take it slow, not to mention his fans melted  
> Rodimus this chapter: strip to keep cool...oh that's his spark chamber, it's right there, and under that is his...

Thunderclash whimpered. He sobbed as Rodimus sat back, licking his lip plates. His frame was heavy and weak, it could hardly move, and yet he wanted more. He needed more. “Captain?” 

Rodimus’ optics softened and he leaned down, kissing Thunderclash.

Thunderclash moaned, his frame shifting under his partner. He needed more, so much more. He could taste himself, how sweet his valve was, what Rodimus did to him. 

What his mate did to him.

The fiery mech sat back, rubbing along Thunderclash’s jaw. “Will that satisfy you for now?”

He nodded, but whined. “Are you leaving again?”

Rodimus kissed him again. “No, but you’re overheating again, and your fans have melted.” He cupped Thunderclash’s helm. “I’m never going to see you like that again, okay?” It was tender, soft. 

Thunderclash nodded, his charge snapping back to life.

_ “Oh!” The Captain jumped up and down. “He’s perfect!” _

__ Thunderclash couldn’t help himself, he wrapped his arms around Rodimus, and pushed him down into a kiss, locking him in place.

* * *

Rodimus kissed back, it was warm and slick, charge pricked up his frame. It was Thunderclash, his mate. He deepened the kiss and his spoiler fluttered. He only pulled back and hissed when Thunderclash whined. “Shh, I know. I’ve got to do one more thing.” He growled, and Thunderclash released him. His digits prodded along Thunderclash’s chassis, sinking into seams. His digits then paused, finding the release latches.

With a pop, the outer plates pushed up. Rodimus wiggle them off and set them aside, resting his servo over Thunderclash’s bare chassis. He was hotter than normal, too hot, and the coolant wasn’t lasting long. 

Rodimus shuttered, feeling Thunderclash’s spark hum under his servo, he didn’t even notice his servo was over his chamber. He recoiled, but his spoiler flapped.  _ Ruts do this to mechs.  _ He licked his lips, forcing himself to stop eyeing the bare chassis, where Thunderclash’s spark, and gestation chamber were.

He shivered.

Digits trailed up his chassi towards his shoulder plates. He found the clasps and pulled them off, setting them aside with Thunderclash’s outer chassis’ plating. He repeated this action with Thunderclash’s arm guards and shin plates, removing every piece of his outer layer. Rodimus paused. “Are you okay?”

Thunderclash quivered, and his hips shifted. He nodded. “Are you really that worried?”

He leaned down, kissing the bare mech. “Yes, I’m worried. You blew a few fuses.” His engine purred and Thunderclash’s whined. “How are you feeling?”

“Exposed.”

Rodimus kissed him again, cupping the back of his helm. “It’s okay, it’s only me.”

Thunderclash whimpered and leaned his helm to the side, Rodimus’ mark displayed. “Please.”

His digits rested under Thunderclash’s chin. “What do you want?”

The whole bare frame under him shuttered, his knees parted. “I need your spike.” He puffed out and licked his lips, Rodimus’ mark stared back at him. He ran a digit over the deep denta marks. Thunderclash’s hips rolled up against Rodimus’ thighs.

He growled and his spike panel finally retracted, it was getting a bit too tight, but that didn’t matter, his mate’s health and moans mattered. Rodimus hovered over Thunderclash, shaking and inhaling the sweet rich scent that triggered his frame to ache and his rut to scream. He hissed, latching onto a sensitive cluster of wires under Thunderclash’s neck and rubbing his spike against the swollen valve lips.

Thunderclash sobbed, grinding his hips to meet Rodimus’, he then clung to Rodimus, quivering with anticipation. With a soft jerk, his cord slipped between those plush lips. He went slack against the bigger mech, the valve was tight, slick, and oh so hot. Thunderclash whimpered. “Please.”

“You’re so tight.” Rodimus cupped his jaw. “Why are you so tight?”

His mate laughed, but his optics softened, “No one askes for my valve, and well it’s always been kinda small.”

_ Good mate, so tight, so warm. _

__ Rodimus sighed, his servos slipping under Thunderclash’s thighs and lifting them up around his waist and pushing the rest of his length in. He listened to the blissful moans of the mech under him as he set a gentle pace. He pressed kisses along Thunderclash’s chassis, down to where his chamber was before going back up and resting his helm against the spark chamber. He thrusted in and rejoiced at hearing his mate moan and feeling his digits brush against his spoiler. 

Thunderclash whimpered, his name escaped breathily from those golden lips, his valve cycled down, and his frame shuttered with each thrust. Rodimus growled as he started to pound into that valve, his valve. His mate angled his hips and sobbed as Rodimus slammed into his ceiling node, almost brushing past it. 

He clawed at the exposed frame, bit down on another wire then another, lapping up the energon that leaked out. This was his mate, only his. His spike ground down on the ceiling nodes and another gush of lube escaped Thunderclash. 

“Rodimus, Captain, Captain!” He panted out with each thrust.

“Shh, I’m here.” he whispered and kissed the wires he marked. His spark burned as their charge danced between their arrays and their closed chambers. Thunderclash’s valve tightened and coiled around his spike. Rodimus kept pushing in and out, pounding at the abused ceiling node.

Thunderclash sobbed. “Prime!” He leaned down kissing Rodimus. “My Prime please breed me!” Charge flooded the colorful mech’s systems as his chassis pressed against Rodimus’. If they were open, they would’ve bonded. That could come later. Overload slammed through Thunderclash one last time and he moaned weakly, and crumbled into a loose pile.

Rodimus didn’t stop as he overloaded, pressing his transfluid deep into that valve. He moaned, but his hips didn’t stop. Another overload was drawn out of them, and then with a puff of steam, Rodimus collapsed on top of his mate. His spike slipped out, and he stared up at the golden faceplates. Thunderclash cupped his helm and rubbed his helm finals.

“I wish I didn’t take off all your plates.”

Thunderclash sighed, his systems overworked but pleasantly so. “Why’s that?”

“I can’t keep my transfluid in.” He hissed.

His mate, his wonderful mate laughed. It was warm, and his spark sang. “Shush, you’ll have plenty of time to do that Captain.”

Rodimus shivered and kissed his new mate, his spoiler flapped and he wiggled. This was going to be a long rut. 

**Author's Note:**

> That's right IT WAS A WET DREAM AND A HEAT FIC! AND THUNDER'S IS IN HEAT!
> 
> Once again please let me know if you want to see anything special (kink, position, etc.) please comment, it's just Thunder's isn't giving out the spike here. Here he's the whole holiday meal, just laid out on that table ready to GET FUCKED!


End file.
